Hell Week
by Prospero Hibiki
Summary: "Please tell me you took him to the cleaners." What if Allison Cameron was a lot more like House than people suspected she was? What if she were more cruel, more conniving, more cunning? Will anyone in the hospital make it through the week alive? Maybe, but House probably won't. Undergoing Editing 1-5 Done
1. The Setup

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: House characters are the property of David Shore and the Fox Network. In no way are these aforementioned characters being used for my own personal profit, and this is not meant as an infringement of the copyright owned by any of the above entities.

Timeline: Set during Kids and immediately after Love Hurts (which happens slightly differently as I'm ignoring everything connected to...well you'll see) completely ignoring what comes afterward. Well at the moment anyway. (And yes, I do in fact that this statement makes no sense...I'm not stupid...today.)

Spoilers: Kids, Love Hurts, Autopsy (maybe?), Sports Medicine...probably others in Season One.

Classification: Twisted Humor/Pure Evil/Cookies/Fluffy Bunnies...with Teeth

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Summary: "Please tell me you took him to the cleaners." What if Allison Cameron was a lot more like House than people suspected she was? What if she were more cruel, more conniving, more cunning? Will anyone in the hospital make it through the week alive? Maybe, but House probably won't.

Author's Comments: Oh maybe some of these characters are just slightly OOC...you won't have any doubts about who. Won't that bloody author ever just shut...oh wait, that's me...

Chapter Notes: Yes. You have indeed seen most of this chapter before. At least you should have. It's still important though, because not everything is as you remember.

0.0

"The Setup"

0.0

"Human fallibility being what it is, victory and truth do not always go together. Therefore, if you have to always win, you can't always be true." -Rebbe Nachman of Breslov

0.0

I don't know why I'm surprised at the knocking at the door. I really shouldn't be. I guess it's that I expected it earlier. Taking off my glasses I set them and the book I've been reading down on the coffee table in front of my chair. Time to see what he wants. Or rather just what it is that I can get out of him since I already know what it is that he wants. The real trick is to see just how much he wants it.

I'm going to give in to him. It's going to happen and I can only hope I'll hold out long enough to not make myself seem pathetic. There's so many ways I've run this scenario through my mind, and none of them come out with me turning him down. Even the one where he just pushes me up against the wall and says he's going to just screw me until I say I'll come back. Personally I kind of like that one.

I open the door and sure enough it's him. Joy of joys. He'd probably never suspect I could be this sarcastic in my head. I'm not all fluffy bunnies and sunshine like he thinks I am. There's so much I could say to him that might cause him to stroke out, or maybe just stroke me...

"I don't want to interview anyone else."

"You're interviewing? I thought you'd just have them send a headshot along with their CV." After all, isn't that what lobby art is for? And just what in my apartment is he finding so interesting?

"Hah. That's good. And why I need you around," he said. "To keep me in my place." As if that was actually going to happen.

"I can't come back, I told you that." Of course he's probably conveniently forgotten that part.

"Wasn't listening." Called it! I wonder what color the sky is on his world. I'd so love to find out. Be strong Allison, stop thinking with your crotch. Even if all I want to do right now is pull him inside and have my way with him on the bed, or the table, or even my beanbag chair. I'm not picky. Well, maybe not the bookcase. Learned that lesson once before.

"Right."

"You want me to listen to you more? I can do that." I'm sorry what were you saying?

"Right. I already accepted a position somewhere else." Total lie of course. The only positions I'm interested in at the moment are... Okay, that's it, no more wine while waiting for my boss to show up at my apartment. And that doesn't mean that I can drink and then go to his place either.

"With who?"

"Yule, at Jefferson." Not as much of a lie as I'm sure he'd like. I did actually get a call from Yule. He heard about me quitting from his daughter who was with me at the Mayo Clinic. It'd be a really nice job for me too. Assistant Head of the department. Apparently surviving this long as House's fellow and leaving because of Vogler have actually bumped up my desirability in the medical community.

"Unaccept it."

"Why?" Come on, say something to let me come back with some dignity. Anything. Tell me you want to go monster trucking again, you respect me as a doctor, that you want to be my slave and do naughty things to me. Hell, I'd settle for you saying you needed more lobby art at the moment. Though I'm not saying I'd turn down sex on your desk. Or Wilson's desk. Or Cuddy's desk for that matter.

"Because Yule is boring. He's pedantic and preachy. Because he's short. Because I want you to come back." Really? That's all you've got. You want me back. Well stop the presses!

"Not good enough." But I'll probably go back anyway. Damn your blue eyes and sexy scruff.

"Want more money?" Who doesn't?

"A car allowance?" That would be awesome. Could I have your shiny corvette?

"Better parking space?" I can't have both?

"I'll let you torture Chase all you want." Tempting...I wonder how far he's willing to take this?

It's the tiniest thought and it just pops into my head. It's so very, very evil. He'll go along with it too. Not because I'll make him. No, he'll do it because he'll want to see how it all plays out. It'll mess with his head and he'll keep going just to prove that he can do it.

It's the perfect plan.

It's cruel.

It's cunning.

It's conniving.

It's House.

"I know what I want." I think he's almost scared by the smile that creeps onto my face. And that is probably the smartest thing he's done yet.

0.0

"What are you doing here?" Now don't get me wrong Chase isn't exactly a bad guy, but I swear he sometimes makes some of those mice from the psych labs look like rocket scientists.

"I work here."

"What, here in this office?" For the moment. I was considering working on the balcony but it just got a little too breezy for everyday use. Maybe in the summer.

"House practically begged me to come back." Well for certain values of begging.

Foreman is much more practical about things. "Please tell me you took him to the cleaners?"

"Same lousy salary." I still can't help the smile that's starting to form on my face. Next week is going to be so much fun.

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Because I'm more like House than you all think I am."

0.0

The week passed by a lot quicker than I thought it would. Our patient is going to live. Unless he continues to act like a moron and let Annette keep strangling him. We also got a golden opportunity to mock Chase for the rest of his life. And I'm definitely going to be taking advantage of it starting tomorrow.

Speaking of which I should really get out of the car and talk to House about tomorrow. If I don't he'll just use it as a chance to sabotage the whole thing before it gets off the ground. I'm actually somewhat surprised that he didn't spill the whole thing to anyone. Even Dr Wilson came up to me and asked me what House had agreed to.

Getting out of the car I walk up to House's door and knock until he opens it.

"I don't think I ordered a hooker, but if you're my complementary gift I don't think I'm going to complain." He walks back into his apartment and I follow after him. So would it be so wrong to just tackle him once he's on the couch? Focus, Focus, Focus. Well, it is the perfect opening for this discussion.

"I hope you can get all of this out of your system before I leave because you know what happens at work tomorrow morning." It feels fantastic to have him shudder a little bit when he sees the evil grin on my face. And yes I did actually watch myself grin in the mirror. It is pretty evil.

"I'm just here to make sure you're going to stick to all of the terms of our agreement." He looks at me sharply and I smile once more. "Yes, ALL of them."

"Even..." He rubs his face. Be strong Allison. Be strong.

"Yep. Everything." You pointedly look down at your watch. "You probably want to get some sleep then. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"Tell me about it."

"See you tomorrow House."

"Don't be late."

"I think that's my line." As I walk off I can only try to imagine the look on his face as I cackle in glee. Vengeance is sweet!

0.0

End "The Setup"

0.0

Notes: As I'm sure someone noticed I've officially started the editing. Not much changed in this one except some 1st/2nd person issues.


	2. Day One

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Oh maybe some of these characters are just slightly OOC...you won't have any doubts about who. Won't that bloody author ever just shut...oh wait, that's me...

0.0

"Day One"

0.0

"Power is the ability to define reality and to have other people respond to your definition as if it were their own." - Dr Wade Noble

0.0

My apartment's phone rang at 8:02 this morning. I know because I was watching the clock and expecting the call. I didn't answer it though. Instead I listened to the message as it was immediately picked up by my answering machine.

"Dr Cameron? This is Linda from the front desk." Yes Linda, I can recognize your voice. It's not like we don't get together for drinks every couple of weeks. "I'm calling because...because you told me to call you when Dr House...and he said...he was...and smiling...Dr Cameron I think I'm..." There was a very long pause on the tape. "Allison, what the fuck is going on?"

All in all pretty much what I'd been expecting. Well, since I am being honest with myself, it was more that I'd been hoping for the phone call. That was the moment that I knew. This week is going to be fun.

Since I still have some time to kill before I was going to go in to work I decide to go out for a run. Sure, most of the time I use my treadmill, but sometimes a girl just has the urge to get out of the house and avoid the massive number of phone calls that are sure to occur when she doesn't show up for work and Armageddon occurs.

Happens all the time.

Really.

0.0

I can hear the phone ringing as I open the door to my apartment after my run, but I'm not exactly in a rush to answer it. If it'd been a real emergency my pager would have gone off. Well, the pager I bought the other day and gave to House to call if there was an actual emergency that is. My old pager was purposefully left on my nightstand. I expect it's also showing an ungodly number of pages.

All told, my run was quite good. There's just something confidence boosting about having someone run into a lamp post because they turned to watch your ass as you run by them. I'm sure that some women would be somewhat offended by being stared at that way, but who doesn't occasionally want confirmation that their running shorts look absolutely spectacular?

A quick breakfast and a nice relaxing shower later and I'm ready to get dressed for the day. I take extra time on my hair and makeup today, not because I really need to, but because I want to. It's not like I'm rushed for time. It's only 9:45 after all and I already have my clothes set out for the day on my dresser.

Throwing them on I put my jacket over top and check myself in the mirror before I leave through the front door. Down the stairs and out front of my apartment I see my ride. The 1988 Harley Davidson Softail Custom looks pretty good. The friend who'd been keeping it for me dropped it off on Saturday after making sure it was in full working order. I only hope that I can still ride the thing because the last time I did I slid through a puddle of oil, crashed into a guardrail, and rammed shoulder first into a tree. Having your shoulder reconstructed at the age of twenty four isn't all it's cracked up to be. But I did very well in my classes that year. There's something about forced inactivity that makes studying so attractive an alternative to counting ceiling tiles. Probably why I got the internship at Mayo.

I'm still staring at the bike when I happen to look down at my watch and notice it's already 10:30. Well, I guess that means it's time to go.

0.0

Getting off my bike in the hospital parking lot, I hold left hand carrying my helmet at shoulder level and unzip my leather jacket. I have to make sure that I'm staging myself just right for my grand entrance.

The glass doors slide open and I step inside. There's a quiet gasp and the sound of shattering ceramic to my right, and I flick my eyes in that direction behind my mirrored glasses. If I believed in God I'd definitely be thanking him right now. House just stepped out of the Clinic and dropped the cup of coffee he'd been holding. I smirk slightly and angle myself in that direction and I feel oh so very powerful.

My outfit was purposefully picked out for maximum shock factor. A bright red ribbed tank-top that doesn't quite make it to the top of the tight black hip-hugger jeans. The leather jacket that's gaping open due to my hand's placement matches my heeled leather boots perfectly. My dark hair with a what I personally thought was a dangerous amount of curls. I'm not wearing a bra either, not that I ever really need one, and I know House can tell. It's not that difficult because I'm really, dangerously excited at the moment. He just looks so damned sexy.

That's what I keep in my mind as I stalk towards him. I reach out with my right index finger and gently lift his jaw closed. "Dr House, it's so good that I ran into you today." I stroke my finger down his throat to his tie. To think I always thought he worked the devil-may-care look pretty well, but I'm absolutely loving him in his nice suit and lab coat. I don't like the clean shaven look on him though. I'll be extremely glad when he gets some scruff back on his face. Not that I'll tell him that. I'm hoping to use that as a bargaining chip later on in the week.

Taking his tie in my hand I brush it down its entire length and then pat him on the chest lightly. "I'm not particularly interested in doing my clinic hours today. Would you be a dear and do them for me?" I smile up at him. "I'd be _ever_ so grateful." Without waiting for a reply I continue on my way to the elevator making sure to put just the slightest bit of extra sway in my hips as I go.

I suppose that I'm seeming all cool and collected to everyone that was around to see this confrontation, and I will say that the lobby seems quite crowded at the moment, but the truth of the matter is that since seeing House in that suit my thoughts have been focusing on just about everything except what I want to do to him right here, right now, in front of the entire hospital. I saw some of the nurses staring at him. It's all that I can do not to push him against one of the columns and mark him in some way that everyone who sees him will know as fact that he belongs to me. I didn't though, and I won't. I'm stronger than that, and I have to keep acting as I am. It's important that I don't give in before we're even a day into this thing.

It's so _hard_ though.

Thankfully I make it to the elevators without melting into a giant puddle of goo. I don't turn and look at him, something that in and of itself is an achievement comparable to putting a man on the moon, and the elevator is almost to the ground floor when I see it.

Oh look. Someone appears to have dropped a quarter.

Smiling wickedly to myself I bend at the waist and pick it up. This time I hear two crashes behind me. Right as I straighten up again the elevator arrives and I get in and survey the damage. House has apparently dropped a second mug that someone gave him as did another doctor that I believe I've seen around in Pediatrics. I give them both a little wave as the doors close.

Then I collapse against the back wall, dig out the paper bag I put in my pocket earlier, and try to stop hyperventilating.

I'm only mildly successful.

This is going to be such a long week.

0.0

I've actually been spending the day hiding in House's office with all the blinds closed. It should be pretty safe because he's still in the clinic working diligently. And even though I know why he's doing it, it still feels weird to even think that.

I shouldn't have but I actually did some paperwork from last week that I must have overlooked. That took all of about twenty minutes though and I've spent the rest of the time sitting in House's chair playing his gameboy. It's some type of fighting game that I have no clue how to play, but it was either that or Pokemon. I'm not getting sucked into that game again. It was hard enough to stop playing after getting out of the hospital after my surgery. The presence of the game in House's desk though presents all sorts of interesting opportunities for snarky comments that I'll save for later.

"House! Just what did you _do_ to Cameron?!" Wilson bursting into the office startles me into falling out of the chair behind the desk. Ow. But I'm not one to look a golden opportunity in the mouth.

"Good to see you too, Jimmy." I poke my head up from behind the desk to see him looking completely mortified. "Now, do you want that list by location or level of kink? Because the things that that man can do to a woman's body...I think he's ruined me." Wow, his face is practically glowing red.

Wait.

Back up a moment there.

I said WHAT?!

Yes, it is now official. I've gone insane. Apparently my mouth filters have passed warranty and have finally broken down completely. Well, and my imagination has decided to keep fantasizing while I've not been paying attention.

Note to self: If I ever do manage to seduce House, find out how he feels about chocolate syrup. Real deal breaker there. Well it is _now_ at least.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well I was trying to beat the high score in this game, but you ruined that. I guess we're going to lunch." You look around and shrug before just placing the gameboy on the desk somewhere House is sure to notice it's been played with.

"Hunh?" Wilson is of course just staring at you stupidly as you grab a sticky and write a note telling House to get some better games for you to play. Don't forget to make the 'G' extra loopy to mess with his head.

"That's what you and House do, right?" It'd better be all they do. I don't share! Not that I have him yet, but I'm still not going to be sharing him with Wilson. Mine!

"Well, yeah."

"Excellent."

Motioning for Wilson to proceed you out of the room you are about to walk out the door before you think better of it. Darting back to the desk you grab the gameboy and stick it in your jacket pocket. Can't make it too easy on him.

0.0

End "Day One"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Sorry to anyone who got an alert for the early posting of the story...forgot I was going to rip out most of the header stuff, which I've now done. This chapter also is about half as long as it was originally going to be...mostly because this seemed like a much better stopping and transition point. Yes, I realize some of you are probably reading this story and screaming inside saying "THEY WOULDN'T ACT THAT WAY!" And you'd be right! "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't."


	3. Empathy

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game.

0.0

"Empathy"

0.0

"My way of joking is to tell the truth. It's the funniest joke in the world." -George Bernard Shaw

0.0

The cafeteria is fairly full at the moment. Not unexpected for half past noon. I'm also getting more than my usual amount of attention from the population. It's like they're vultures just waiting for me to drop dead before they pick me clean. I fall into line ahead of Wilson and start placing things on your tray. It's practically a certainty that he's going to try to interrogate me about what's going on and I might as well get some food out of it right?

"That'll be eleven dollars, Dr Cameron."

"Dr Wilson's offered to cover my food this time." I vaguely wave towards where he's carrying his food over to the register.

"Okay. Have a nice lunch." I smile at her on reflex before I remember that I'm not supposed to be doing that. Oh well, I'll try to remember next time.

As I walk to an empty table I hear an outraged shout behind me. I guess I should have told Wilson about his generous offer today. Well, I guess he was going to find out sometime.

Wilson sits down across from me with a scowl on his face. "Aw, thanks for buying lunch, Jimmy. You really shouldn't have." I smile at him in thanks.

"Don't mention it. Ever." He gets started eating some of his french fries before he pins me with his eyes. "So what is going on with you today? I've been hearing all sorts of rumors flying around the hospital. I've heard that you came to work late, that you drove a motorcycle here, that you sexually harassed House, that you two had sex on the lobby desk, and that he's doing you clinic hours."

"That's totally a lie. I didn't have sex with House in the lobby." Unfortunately.

"Well that's a relief. Does that mean everything else was true?"

Well he's got me there. Wait. "Is it technically sexual harassment if he's my boss?"

What's hilarious is that he opens his mouth to respond before closing it. I can actually see him running the arguments through his head. "I guess that's a good point."

It's my turn to blink in surprise. "Really?" I look at him as he brings the coffee he bought to his lips. "That's good to know for the future." Ha! Timed it perfectly. I will say that it's a good thing that he happened to be looking away from me when he sprayed coffee everywhere. Though that nurse doesn't look like she agrees with me. "Don't mind Dr Wilson. He's seeking help for his drinking problem, really he is."

"Great, now she thinks I'm an alcoholic." Sheesh. You'd think he'd be used to this sort of thing by now. I'm sure House would have made a much more embarrassing remark. Probably something about an ex-wife. Hmmmmm.

"Trying to line up the fourth ex-wife before you divorce the third one? Smart move. Saves time."

"Thanks a lot House." I arch one of my eyebrows at him. "My God, that's what you're doing. You're acting like him. And may I assume by the fact he actually did his clinic hours that he is acting like you?"

"Finally. I didn't think you were ever going to get it. How does he even put up with you?" Wait for it. Wait for it. Now. "It's the sex isn't it?" Again! "You'd think a person would learn that you can't breathe coffee by the time he made it through medical school."

"I hate you."

You just smile at him sweetly. "Seriously though, you're not allowed to tell anyone. I mean, sure it'll be pretty obvious soon enough, but it's part of the deal."

"Why?"

It was a good question. I wasn't going to answer it, but it was a good question none the less. No one would believe me if I told them the real reason. That it was all a desperate attempt to show House that I really _didn't_ want to change him. That he was a better person than he let people think he was. Who knows, maybe he'd let himself actually show what he really thought about things. If the worst happened he could always blame it on me and say that I made him act all nice. The other side of it is to show him that he doesn't have me all figured out. That he can't just file me away into some convenient box and forget about me. Plus...

"He said I could torture Chase as much as I wanted when he asked me to come back. I figured, 'Why limit myself to just Chase?' It's really been quite liberating so far."

"How long is this supposed to last?"

"Why, Jimmy? Getting scared." I can only imagine how evil my smile must appear because he looks like he's getting slightly pale.

"I am now."

0.0

I really don't know what else to do to House today. I've been hiding out in his office for most of the day. After I got completely bored with his gameboy I started bouncing his giant tennis ball off the wall. I didn't even have a chance to torture my fellow ducklings because they'd apparently been farmed out to Neurology and the ICU. I got that information by going through House's e-mail.

I didn't actually go through it like I normally would have. I just noticed that one had an attention flag on it and got curious. Mostly I was going through it to remove his spam filters and subscribe him to some interesting websites. I scrapped that idea though when I realized that he still wouldn't check it this week and after this week was over I'd be the one dealing with it all. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. I idly sort through a few things in my head to do later.

How in the hell does he manage to waste so much time during the day? It's really impressive. I'm wondering if I should grab a few books to bring with me tomorrow. At least I won't be as bored.

A few ideas hit me for things I can do tomorrow and I jot down a few things on the notepad I have in my jacket pocket. It's just as well that I was going to cut out early because my shopping list for the week keeps getting longer. It's what I've really been working on this entire time.

I guess if I'm this stuck on what to do it's time I make my way out of the hospital.

I figure I should at least check in with House before I leave. He is my boss, and as much fun as it's been to mess with him today I really need to make sure that he's been okay with everything so far. He'd have said something by now if he was really pissed off, but I still actually want to make sure. I do actually care for him after all. But it's just been so much fun screwing with him today.

Swinging by the cafeteria I pick him up a sandwich; a Reuben without pickles. If he's been in the clinic this entire time he's probably starving. And if he has eaten, he'll still probably see it as the peace offering it is.

Sneaking through the clinic is actually a lot easier than I thought it would be. I finally find him in one of the exam rooms with an open door bandaging a child's arm. Looks like a pretty nasty sunburn.

I tune out the actual words he's speaking and just listen to his voice. His voice is something I've always loved about him. It's low and sexy and I'd listen to him for hours if I could. He's surprisingly gentle with the boy and rolls his eyes in unison with him when the boy's mother gets more than a little ridiculous. As the patient leaves I slip fully into the room and shut the door behind me. He still looks incredibly sexy in that lab coat though at some point he lost the suit coat. I don't even know why he was wearing it in the first place. Not that I was complaining mind you. Even the light sheen of sweat at his temples looks good.

I hand him the sandwich before leaning against the wall again and give him a small smile. "So how's it been going? Gone into shock from acting like a teddy bear yet?"

He nods at the door. "Does that mean that I act like my normal bastardy self for the moment?"

It's so tempting to say no, but nod anyway. "Yeah," I grin at him, "I figure that I can have some pity on you for your first day." He's actually done pretty well from what I'd overheard the nurses saying.

Practically before I finish speaking he's popped open his vicodin vial and dry swallowed two of them before collapsing against the examination table. "Thank god. My leg's been killing me."

"What the fuck?!" I realize I'm screaming at him, but I can't help it. "Why haven't you been taking your pills if it's been hurting?" I rush over to him dropping my helmet and I can see that his right leg is spasming. He tries to bat my hands away as I grab onto his leg and start massaging the muscle. If this weren't so serious I might enjoy feeling him up. I still have no freaking clue what's going on though.

"You told me the deal was to act like a normal doctor for the week. Normal doctors aren't addicts."

I completely freeze. Surely he doesn't think I wanted him to be in pain. Does he? "House, you don't think that I...I mean you didn't...did you..." I don't even know what answer I want him to give me. What must he think of me? I realize my vision's getting blurry and I turn away from him. "For the record anything having to do with your medication is completely separate from our deal. I figure you've given more than your pound of flesh to the clinic for the day." After fumbling around on the floor for my helmet I go to the door and am about to step through when I stop. "I'm headed home for the day. I'll see you tomorrow."

I don't wait for him to say anything else. Instead I head directly to the desk and tell them that Dr House won't be seeing anymore patients that day. From there I exit through the front doors of the hospital. Before I know it I'm already flying down the street on my motorcycle.

I actually manage to make it all the way home before I completely break down into tears.

0.0

End "Empathy"

0.0

Chapter Notes: I realize I've probably freaked people out once more. Not what you were expecting was it? This story isn't always going to be sweetness and joy. Sorry for the lack of warning. And House going through pain just to prove a point is completely in character. "Detox" anyone?


	4. Laughter

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster.

0.0

"Laughter"

0.0

"When people are laughing, they're generally not killing each other." -Alan Alda

0.0

I wasn't ready for the day when my alarm went off this morning.

I got up anyway.

I wasn't ready to show my face to the people of the hospital.

I still arrived here.

I don't believe I have the strength to keep going with my plan.

I will because...giving up on him after showing him that I care would be the worst possible form of betrayal.

I'm scared of who I might see myself be at the end of this.

Elanor Roosevelt once said. "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."

Why does this have to be so hard?

0.0

I went to the store last night after crying for a good couple of hours. There were things that I had to buy because the show must go on. I had that thought in one form or another so many times last night. I threw up after the first one.

It's funny really. I doubt House has any idea how much his simple statement broke me yesterday. At least I hope he doesn't. I don't think I could take that added onto everything else.

I suppose it was a beneficial coincidence that today's plan is what it is.

Unlike yesterday I was up and ready to go well before my usual early start of the day. This was of course part of the overall plan, though I will admit that it was much easier to arrive early than it was yesterday to arrive late. Yesterday went very much against the grain in so many ways and today shall be the same, though in different ways. Today's outfit was only slightly less carefully chosen than the previous one. The jeans aren't as tight and have scuffed knees. I'm wearing a bra this time and over it a Rolling Stones t-shirt. I've also pulled my hair back into a pony tail that's running through the back of the ball cap on my head.

There's of course a reason for all this. I'm hoping to be quite unmemorable today to the average person. In this case I hope that anyone outside the Diagnostics Department won't recognize me. It's helped by the fact that I'm practically overloaded with cardboard boxes.

My first stop of the day is of course to drop off a rather large box with Linda who is still manning the front desk since her shift doesn't end until 9:00. It's a short conversation and at the end of it she's staring at me slack jawed but promises to do me this favor and says she'll try to get her relief to do the same. Hopefully I'll start to see dividends on this project by lunch.

There's a benefit to being the nice person that people get along with. Not to say I do it for this reason. I honestly enjoy the occasional girl's night out I have with Linda, Terry, and whoever we get to go with us. Still I sincerely doubt that House would have anywhere near the luck I'm having into convincing people to go along with this scheme. Although he can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. Now if we could only harness that power for good instead of evil.

Already I'm feeling more cheerful than when I started and I haven't even gotten out of the lobby. Looking around I figure the next step would be to set up some of my items in the clinic for later. Luckily for me the doors are open and several of the nurses are getting things ready for the day. Nodding hello to them I place several more boxes under their counter. Seeing one of my targets unattended on the desk I grin and make my move. Well that was easy. Not wanting to get caught at the scene of the crime I quickly leave and make my way to the elevator with my remaining boxes.

I had an idea that House would have a key to Wilson's office in one of his desk drawers and it turns out I was correct. I guess I do know him pretty well. Before I leave I place the brand new mug I bought on the desk with a bow stuck on it. It's a bright pink bow, but I'm hoping that House will like the mug anyway. It'll feed his ego a little bit. Which will make it all the more fun when I knock him down a few pegs. Two more mugs make it next to the coffee maker in the conference room. Mine gets hidden inside one of my drawers.

The rest of the setup in the conference room takes a few minutes. I'm in luck because Wilson still isn't in his office when I sneak in and make my preparations in there. I'm left with only one small box and I'll stash it under my desk. I have no real plans to do anything with it but you never know when the things inside could prove useful.

The final item is set in Wilson's office and I make my way out of the hospital through the back. Getting into the backseat of my car I take off my hat and undo the ponytail before putting a long sleeve blouse over top my t-shirt. I don't bother to button it.

I grab one more thing from my car before I lock it up and make my way inside. It's my final prop for the day.

I hear that this particular model is slimming.

0.0

Once again I get quite a few stares as I walk into the lobby of the building. Though perhaps _walk_ isn't the correct term. Limp is probably better. I have no clue how House manages to walk around using one of these things. Speaking of House. Reaching into my jeans pocket I pull out an orange pill bottle and toss back a few of the white candies inside. Mmmm Good & Plenty's. I can hear a couple of people snickering around me, but I ignore them.

I'd originally told House that I was going to try to be more like him this week as part of our deal. He'd have to act like me and I'd have to act like him. I don't think he expected me to go all out as I have been. From what I heard though he was certainly holding up his end of the bargain. Yesterday at least.

As I pass by the front desk I give Linda a small wink and she smiles and nods at me.

The trip up to our office is quiet. Well it's quiet except for the constant step-thump of my new cane on the floor. I get more than a few second looks as I walk down the hallway.

Looking through the glass doors into the conference room I can't help but snicker to myself. It appears both Chase and Foreman found my little presents for them this morning.

"Good morning, fellow ducklings. You both have a lovely set of plumage today. Trying something new?" I am of course referring to the fact that both of them still have some silly string stuck to their lab coats in various places. Chase has also managed to get some stuck in his hair that he didn't manage to get out yet. Not that I'm going to tell him that.

Why are they just staring at me? It's not like they didn't...ahhh, I knew I was forgetting something. They totally missed out on seeing me yesterday, so they have probably only heard rumors. This will make messing with their heads so much more fun. They start asking me various questions but I just ignore them and hobble over to my desk. My arm is getting kind of sore from using it to support some of my weight, and I just want to sit down.

I do notice that they're also using their new mugs. That's going to be just perfect for later. I wonder if they think House bought them. I like Foreman's gray "Jailbird" mug, but I think the real masterpiece was managing to get Chase a bright neon pink mug that says "Wombat" on it. I hope House comes in with his. The gag won't be as effective if I have to wait a long time.

Luckily for my patience I've only just sat down at my desk when House walks through the door with his new mug and pours himself some coffee from the pot. His mug says "The Man" on it and he smiles at me after flicking his eyes at the other two. I smile back and pull out my own mug. There's a brief scowl on his face when he reads mine. "The Boss."

After I've watched all of them take at least one drink from their cups I open up the box at my desk and pull out a medium sized chemical bottle. Placing the bottle in the center of the conference table I walk over to the coffee pot and dump it out in the sink making a big show of thoroughly cleaning it. Once that's done I start to make another pot of coffee and smirk when they all look up at me in horror. It's a bottle of a polyethylene glycol based laxative. Smiling at them I casually sit back in my chair and look at my watch.

"I understand that particular brand is rather fast acting."

As they all seem to be in a hurry to get to the nearest restroom I don't want to delay them by telling them that I didn't actually put any of it in their coffee. In fact, if they'd actually looked at the bottle, they could have seen for themselves that it still had its factory seal intact.

"HOUSE!"

Turning around it's all I can do not to crack up. It seems Wilson's booby trapped chair was even more effective than the other two. He is completely covered in the fake snow that was in the bottom of the cardboard box. I'm almost dreading what his office must look like. The fan I rigged to turn on when he sat down probably blew that stuff everywhere. He'll be finding it for the next month. At least.

"You should really think about switching shampoos if your dandruff is that bad, Dr Wilson."

Before he can stop me I stand up and walk out of the conference room. It's time to start up the latest game of hide and seek. At least this time I brought a book to read.

There's nothing that can stop me from laughing out loud when the announcement comes over the loudspeaker. "The person responsible for the whoopee cushions in the Pediatric Ward has until the end of the day to remove them before..."

It's not even lunch time yet and already today is looking up.

0.0

End "Laughter"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Yes, in direct contrast to the last chapter, this one started off somewhat depressing and got progressively more cheerful. Yes, the day is not over. Yes, there is more planned for Cameron's reign of terror. Yes, I do realize that no one knows how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of at Tootsie Roll Pop. No, this story is not incorrectly labeled.


	5. People

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster.

0.0

"People"

0.0

"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are so confident while the intelligent are full of doubt." - Bertrand Russell

0.0

It's nearing eleven o'clock when I finally get found by Dr Cuddy. Over the course of the time I've been working for House I've learned about quite a few of his hiding spots in the hospital. Which of course means that I've been avoiding those spots like the plague. Can't make it too easy on her after all. She might come to like this state of affairs and we just can't have that.

As it stands I've been hiding out in the Pediatrics ward play area. Several of the nurses and doctors there have become friends over my period of employment and because of that none of them ratted me out. Apparently Cuddy found me by accident. And she kicked one of the toy trucks which knocked over my enormous block tower. Some of these kids have a great future as engineers.

"Dr Cameron, just what do you think you're doing?!"

I look at her and then look at the huge pile of fallen blocks as if she's completely missing the obvious. "I'm obviously playing with blocks." Can't she tell?

"Duuh!" It's everything I can do not to burst into laughter. I absolutely had nothing to do with that seven year old saying that. Though I wish to god I did. Priceless.

"Yeah. Duh!"

I watch her close her eyes and tilt her head to the ceiling. She's not being as subtle as she is with House. I can actually see her mouth moving as she's counting to ten in her head. "Why are you playing with blocks?"

"Because it's fun?" "They're cool." "There's no good cartoons on." "Because none of the other adults would play with us." All these reasons are shouted out by the kids I've been playing with for the past hour or so. But it's the last one that gets me all choked up for a bit before I can school my face. "She said it was okay to be scared but that the doctors here were really nice and she promised that they would take really good care of us and that as a doctor it was her job to be brave for us and keep us safe." Katie was four and had been crying when I came in and her mom couldn't get her to stop. The big problem was that her mom was scared of hospitals and was practically hyperventilating herself. Her husband was in the National Guard and currently deployed overseas. I'd done my best to calm her down and sent her to clean herself up in the nearest bathroom.

Cuddy couldn't keep her face as stern as she wanted. Mostly I think it had to do with the fact that Katie was totally adorable with blonde hair and blue eyes and tugging gently on Cuddy's pant leg. The super secret adorable child routine is always effective. Especially when it's totally sincere.

"Be that as it may, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Rule #2 of the Successful Prankster: Admit nothing. "About what?" I mean there are so many things that she could be alluding to today.

"You know very well what I'm talking about!" Oh boy, I'm in trouble now. She's crossed her arms and is tapping her foot while she glares down at me.

"Someone's in trooooouuuuuuble!" And my newfound friends agree with me. Behind Cuddy I see a couple of the nurses cover their mouths and duck out of the doorway to keep from laughing.

"Am not! I have no idea to what you are referring."

"You booby trapped Dr Wilson's chair and now his office is completely covered in fake snow!"

It's impossible for me to keep my face straight as she says this and I snicker fairly loudly. All the other kids are looking at me in complete awe. I hear various quiet impressed exclamations around me. I think a few of them are even from the parents.

"That would explain what I saw earlier. But you have no proof that it was me. In fact, I believe that Dr Wilson believed Dr House was responsible. Or at least that is the conclusion I came to when he dashed into the hallway with fake snow all over himself."

"I don't want to hear any excuses. You're to go to the clinic and assist there until your team has a case. We're swamped there and we need all the help we can get at the moment."

"But moooooom! I want to play some more." At her glare I duck my head. "Fine." I turn to all the other kids in the room. "My mom says I have to do my chores now. Maybe next time we can build an even bigger castle." I'm completely unprepared for several of the kids to wrap their arms around me once I stand up.

"Thank you for playing with us Dr Cameron."

"It was no problem. Now listen to your parents and be nice to you're doctors. They're all friends of mine and they're all really smart."

"Bye!" Most of them are still waving at me as I go around the corner.

0.0

Lunch was fairly boring if you don't count all the people who were staring at me the entire time. Word has gotten around that I'm acting particularly House-like. They're all hanging back a good distance though after I whacked Johnston from Orthopedics in the shin with my cane when he tried to hit on me. I figure he was due since he just hasn't stopped hitting on me despite my telling him I'm not interested. And I also once told him I was gay. I'm not, of course. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I just didn't take it too kindly when he said he'd be able to _fix_ me. That was when I hit him with the cane.

Still, since Cuddy showed up again and just glared and pointed towards the clinic I should probably head there.

Clinic hours aren't all that exciting, but I still manage to make them fun. Well fun for me that is. I dug through the charts at the desk looking for the dumb cases after looking to make sure there wasn't anything appearing truly urgent. Luckily there were several cases to choose from.

"I think I've got Ebola." I'm not all that surprised by this comment since he has a clinic file on record here. He's a hypochondriac that's been in the clinic at least once a week for the past year. Oh, and House has seen him at least four times. His comments are quite hilarious, when he's bothered to write something that is.

"Well sucks to be you then. You probably aren't going to make it if that's true. Though I do wonder why you didn't say that upfront. I mean you've been sitting in the waiting area for over an hour now and it'd only be getting worse."

"Well, I didn't think I had Ebola when I got here. Then I thought I just had a nose bleed that wouldn't stop, but now I'm sure it's Ebola."

"So you decided you'd be quiet about that while you were bleeding from your nose in a room full of uninfected people." I put on a fresh set of gloves while I resist the urge to smack this guy upside the back of his head. I understand that this is frowned up in this day and age. I'm beginning to understand why House hates clinic duty. It's because the nurses make sure he gets the truly stupid people. "You're either truly stupid or...I'm still trying to come up with another choice."

"Hey!" I don't know if he's protesting my calling him an idiot or the way I roughly tilted his head back so I could look up his nose with a pen light.

Well what do you know? "Is there any particular reason that you've got part of a cotton swab stuck up your nose?"

0.0

"You, sir, are a moron."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Beg all you want, you're not going to get it."

"Who the hell do you think you are that you can call me a moron?"

"I'm the doctor that can tell that you wrote your name in a flammable liquid and then lit it on fire. If that wasn't enough you were somehow surprised when you found out that lighting yourself on fire was a bad idea. So, let me hear you say that you are a moron."

"I don't have to put up with this!"

"Let me rephrase that. You're the moron who is going say he's a moron in the privacy of this exam room or I'm going to write that you're a moron, in black permanent marker, on your forehead. So let me hear it."

"...I'm a moron."

0.0

Eighteen year old female. Refused to say why she was here except to a female doctor. This isn't going to go well.

"I think I'm pregnant."

I know I'm going to regret this. "How late is your period?"

"I'm supposed to have it in a few days."

I knew it. I swear it's women like these that give us all a bad name. Though to be fair I kind of suspected something was going to happen at the completely wide eyed stare she was giving everything in the room. The whole _I've never seen this before_ look that I've noticed that the extremely home-schooled have. For the love of God people! Just because you feel uncomfortable with talking to your kids about sex, doesn't mean they don't need to know how it works.

I don't even want to ask this question, but I suppose I must. "Why do you think you're pregnant?"

"Well I was with my boyfriend and he put his thing in my..." And then she clams up completely.

Oh, kill me now.

It's several long painful minutes before I get the full story. She was not in fact home-schooled. Though, judging from her knowledge of the human reproductive system, she might as well have been. Apparently she was taught in one of those school districts that has totally banned all forms of sex-ed from the schools. Go stupid people!

The good news is that I'm fairly confident she's not pregnant. Unless she somehow keeps her ovaries in her mouth. I figure the best thing I can do for her is to give here a sex-ed pamphlet and a bunch of free condoms. No way am I going to give her _The Talk_. On second thought though...

I stick my head out into the patient waiting area. "Anyone willing to give the talk to a completely naive girl that's never had sex-ed will be able to skip everyone else and be seen next. Oh yeah. And I'll personally give you a lollypop if you can completely freak her out into never having sex. _Ever._"

0.0

The day's over and I didn't get fired. As I leave the clinic for the day I see that Dr Cuddy is on the phone facing away from the door. Ducking behind the counter once more I grab the box I stashed there earlier in the day. I open the lid and look inside. All still there. I grin evilly and prop the outer door open so I can make a quick dash to freedom. Ever so quietly I open the door to her office and chuck the whole box in.

As I dash out the doors of the hospital I snicker to myself at the mental image of three hundred super bouncy balls zipping around Cuddy's office. I'm so going to catch hell for this tomorrow, but it'll be worth it.

And to think. People thought House was bad.

0.0

End "People"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Not much plot advancement in this chapter, but remember this is only the second half of Tuesday. There's still a lot of week to go. If you're actually reading this note, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I also hope I remembered to include a quote at the top. As someone who has read my profile page might know, I wrote this chapter while I was up in the mountains of NC without internet access. Less Reading = More Writing but also Less Research Ability. Here's hoping.


	6. Normality

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster.

0.0

"Normality"

0.0

"Normal is in the eye of the beholder." - Whoopi Goldberg

0.0

Wednesday starts much better than Tuesday did. I didn't see as much of my team as I normally do, but that's not totally unusual if we don't have a case. They also might have been avoiding me a bit.

I really have no idea what I'm going to do today. If I followed my original schedule I'd be messing with House directly, but since Monday that hasn't exactly had the allure that I expected it to have. Maybe I am just too nice for my own good. On the other hand I really don't feel like running around pulling pranks like I did yesterday. Sure it was fun, but there's really only so many different juvenile pranks a person can pull off in a week. That I can pull of in a week at least.

Sometimes it sucks having a conscience.

I figure the best way to keep people on their toes today is to just act normal. Well pseudo-normal at least. I'm still going to wear my Housefit, but I figure people will be extra jumpy if I just go about my business as if it were a normal day.

That doesn't mean I'm not going to screw with their heads though.

In fact...

0.0

Limping my way into the Diagnostics office I calmly make the coffee like I've been doing for ages. I'm not being particularly nice. No, this is actually a very selfish act. None of the guys can make coffee for crap. Making sure no one is looking I pull out the good whole bean coffee from behind a plant and run it quickly through the grinder. That's the real secret of course.

After filling my mug with the liquid gold I sit down at my desk and start sorting through the mail that's come into the department this week both physically and electronically. House probably should have been going through it himself, but I'll give him a pass on this item. He probably doesn't even realize just how many things I just throw out anyway.

He hates going to conferences so those invitations go straight to the circular file. Requests for long distance consults usually get forwarded to Chase, Foreman, or myself. It's our usual Wednesday routine. Most of the time it's something fairly simple and we take care of it on our own or run a quickie differential in the conference room. Working with House really has made us better doctors.

Submitted articles come back all the time with requests for revisions. The first time I'd seen one of those I was simply dumbfounded. The article was somewhat poorly written, but the topic was totally brilliant. What was even more amazing was that I'd had absolutely no idea House had even written the article. Or when for that matter. Since then the various journals have stopped sending them back to him for revisions and started sending them to me. I'm apparently a much better technical writer than he is and so have polished quite a few articles without bothering him with them. I don't think he even reads his own articles after they're published. There are dozens of them out there and some of them have completely turned the field of diagnostics on its ear. It's one of the things that draws people to this hospital.

It's also one of the things that really pisses me off about this hospital.

Vogler was an utter bastard, but he wanted House's endorsement for his company's drug for one reason. House doesn't endorse something unless it actually works. They say he's never given his seal of approval to anything, but that's not quite true. He's brought attention to various techniques that have been overlooked by people and he's not afraid to give credit where credit is due. A perfect example of that was when he gave Chase credit for the cranial sonogram that was performed on the swimmer when I was gone. He also cited Chase's old mentor and referenced several of his articles in the footnotes, albeit poorly.

Next in the mail were several thank you notes that came from various patients House has had over the years. E-mails get printed out and filed with paper letters in a file box that I keep behind my desk. Someday he might want them. Sometimes if the letter is especially cheering I'll make a copy of it and leave it on his desk. Most of the times I find the copies in his trash can and sometimes I don't. You never can tell with him.

The rest of the mail is the usual advertisements, promotional crap, and interoffice memos that you get as a department head in a teaching hospital. Occasionally there's a lecture request. The interesting ones get put on his desk. Usually that's about one every month, the rest getting circular filed. I think he's actually done one of the requested guest lecture spots. Of course it was for the music department. I think he talked about neural stimulation using piano music. I think I've got a recording of it somewhere.

Chase and Foreman are of course giving me dirty looks because of yesterday's prank, and they both refused to drink any of the coffee until I'd had a cup of it in front of them. So suspicious. They knocked out their consults fairly quickly and we only had to do two mini differentials. Each of them replied to the doctors requesting the cases they'd worked on, and I typed up the others. All in all it was a fairly routine Wednesday.

That should have been my first warning.

0.0

I came back from lunch later than the guys did, having stopped by all the various bulletin boards in the hospital to hang up fliers for the 4th Annual Oncology Stairway Slinky Races. People wishing to participate were, of course, to register their slinky by weight and coiled length with Dr Wilson before end of business Thursday. Round one was to begin at noon on Friday in a single elimination format until a winner was determined. Grand prize was going to be awarded by Cuddy dressed in a bikini.

I don't think anyone will suspect me. Really, I don't.

Walking into the office I notice that everyone is in there including House and Wilson. Seeing that at least two of them are taking a sip of coffee I barge in.

"Does anyone _else_ want to bang that hot redheaded nurse in Radiology or is it just me?"

Score! Both Foreman and Wilson managed to snort their coffee. I think that's at least three times this week for Wilson.

I don't know what possesses me to do it, but I look over towards House for approval. I figure if anyone would appreciate the joke he would. When I see it I'm completely taken aback. For a moment I just freeze. I have no idea what the expression on his face means. It's completely foreign to me. He's completely blank. His eyes look cold and dead like a shark. Not mean. Not cruel. Just emotionless. Empty.

What the fuck is going on?

0.0

I'm seriously scared at the moment. Something has gone terribly wrong. What's worse is that I have absolutely no idea what it is. After that first look where his eyes met mine, he just turned and walked into his office. Sitting behind his desk he didn't start playing with any of his toys. Instead he opened several of the medical books he has in there and started typing.

I keep looking through the glass, but he never looks up. He just keeps typing away. Meanwhile the guys start joking around with Wilson and they slowly put together the reign of terror that I'd caused throughout the hospital yesterday. They managed to put everything together except the Tabasco flavored lollypops in the clinic. Absently I wonder if anyone noticed them.

They finish their conversation with Wilson and he leaves for his own office. I wait a few minutes before following after him. Maybe he'll know what is going on with House. He is House's best friend after all. If anyone knows it would be him. I hope.

Pushing through the door to his office I only wait to see if he has a patient before beginning the interrogation. Because that's exactly what this is. I'm not even going to pretend that I'm not worried about him.

"What the fuck is going on with House?"

He puts down the patient folder he was reviewing and looks up at me. "What do you mean? I personally though you were what was going on with him. You've been a one woman natural disaster the past two days." He waves his hand around his office. Yes, it is still a winter wonderland in areas.

I wave my hand dismissively. "The only thing I did to House today was his mail. Yesterday was faking him out with the laxative. Monday was..." I trail off thinking about it. "Okay, Monday could have ended better, but that was mostly a miscommunication between us. For the most part the only thing I did to him was make him realize that I wasn't the only one of us that wanted to have sex on the lobby counter." I'm polite enough to ignore the quiet choking sounds that Wilson is making. "Really, I didn't even see him after lunch yesterday. Today I saw him when I came back from lunch while you were in the room. He looked different."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't think I've seen hims shaved for three days in a row in years."

"That's just it. I _don't_ mean that at all. I'd honestly prefer it if he didn't shave. I find it much sexier personally. But there was something just wrong with his eyes. They didn't have any life in them."

"Completely ignoring how sexy you find my best friend's stubble."

"If you must." I'm certainly not going to. Rawr!

"Why do you think I'd know anything?"

"Because as you said, he's your best friend." Duh! "Do you think you could ask him tonight? Maybe show up at his place with Chinese or something and figure out what the hell is wrong?"

He looks up at me and frowns slightly. "You're really worried about this aren't you?" At my nod he sighs. "I guess I can give it a shot. Doesn't mean he'll tell me anything though."

"Thanks Dr Wilson. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"No problem Cameron."

As I open the door to leave he calls out to me.

"By the way. Do you have any idea why people keep calling and telling me about their slinkys?"

Oops?

0.0

End "Normality"

0.0

Chapter Notes: As some of you have figured out by now, this story is NOT going to be all sweetness and light. I also realize that for a story filed under both Cameron and House there is very little Cameron/House direct interaction. This is on purpose. Really. The major plot points of this story have been planned out quite far in advance. Well through the end of the week. Minor details like clinic patients and practical jokes are more spur of the moment but whenever there IS a Cameron/House scene it's one that advances the plot. And there IS plot folks.


	7. Battle Lines

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster.

IMPORTANT: I uploaded 3 new chapters today. If you're reading this without reading the previous 2 you are missing IMPORTANT THINGS.

0.0

"Battle Lines"

0.0

"He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

0.0

For a week that's thus far been about cutting loose and kicking back, I've expended an incredible amount of effort and gotten very little sleep. I just hope that this whole plan works out as I intend it to. Everyone probably thinks that this whole thing is about House. For good reason too. I've done my best to make it seem that way. It's also somewhat true. But only somewhat.

It's been no secret that I'm attracted to House. Hell, everyone in the freaking hospital seems to know about it. I can't count the number of pitying looks I've gotten from people when they don't think I can see them. Apparently I'm some tragic figure in an unrequited romance.

Fuck that.

House himself once said that I shouldn't be a doctor because I was pretty. That I worked much harder than I should have otherwise had to work. That I was damaged.

So what if I am damaged? I'm still that same woman who was willing to work for something that I want. It's just that _what_ I want has changed. Or rather maybe I should say _who_ I want has changed.

House wouldn't accept a relationship with a mooning cow-eyed girl. He might have an affair with such a person, but he'd roll right over her with his personality and kick her to the curb pretty quickly. I doubt he'd be able to respect such a person. More to the point, I don't think I'd be able to respect myself if that was the sort of relationship I got into with him.

So how do I get House to acknowledge that I can stand up to him as an equal when I want to not taking any crap from him? How can I show him the parts of my personality that I just don't like using when I'm at the hospital? How do I prove that it's not weakness on my part when I go through my professional life being a kind and caring person?

Well I think he might be starting to get the message.

0.0

This morning's outfit is carefully chosen. Despite my discussion with Wilson last night before I left work I decide to move ahead with what I'd originally planned to do.

Thursday was always meant to be something resembling a combination of Monday's tactics and what happened Tuesday. However while I'll still be launching a full scale assault on House's perceptions of me, I'm going to be cutting way back on the pranks. Mostly today is going to be super glue and air horns. Good times.

The only problem I've had by the time I arrive at the hospital is that I'd forgotten just how stiff these pants are before they conform to my body. Luckily for me that happens rather quickly, but for a few moments I'd been worried that I'd be chaffing all day. Which would have been a real shame. I love these pants.

The outfit is mostly the same as I wore on Monday. Same leather jacket, boots, and helmet. The tank top is just a fraction tighter and blue this time instead of red. But the real change is the leather pants that look like they were painted on. It's not that fake crap either. Real honest to god leather. On the outsides of my legs there are two inch wide laced up gaps that show skin from my boots to my upper thigh. I've never had to ask a guy if they liked my pants. Somethings a girl just knows.

There are no games played in the lobby this morning. I frankly don't care what anyone there thinks of what I'm wearing. I'm walking with purpose towards the elevator and only vaguely hear the sudden silence. The quiet whispered exclamation does make it to my ears though and I can't help but smile when I'm sure no one can see it. "That poor bastard doesn't stand a chance."

0.0

I'm about to barge into House's office and begin the assault when Wilson grabs my arm from behind and drags me into his office. Well crap. This can't be good. He looks really pissed off at me. We're talking _You just ran over my dog and then laughed at me_ level of pissed off. Surely he can't be this upset about the slinky thing.

"Well I hope you're happy with yourself." Hunh?

"I thought it was pretty funny. They're slinkys everyone likes them. I figure if enough people actually sign we could actually do it. It'd be fun."

Now he's practically yelling at me. "Not that. I'm talking using your deal with House against him with Cuddy."

I can feel the blood draining from my face. No. No no no. What the hell is going on? "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. The only people I've told about the deal have been you and House himself." I back up until I can sit on the couch with my face in my hands. Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's nothing. But then I think about the look in House's eyes yesterday and I know that it's not nothing. "What has Cuddy done?"

Wilson is still clearly angry, but at least he seems willing to entertain the possibility that this isn't my fault. "She somehow convinced him to be the keynote speaker at a medical conference in Vegas. He leaves tomorrow and won't be back until Tuesday. He was really pissed off about it last night. Apparently Cuddy left him the impression that you had something to do with it."

"Damn it!" Just when things were starting to go so well the wicked bitch of the hospital had to screw it all to hell. I grab the closest thing nearby and throw it at one of the solid walls. From the shattering sound I realize that it was a glass candy dish. "Sorry about that. I'll get you a replacement."

"That's fine. I take it by your reaction that you didn't set this up."

No shit! "A medical conference with House on stage as a keynote speaker? Seriously? He'd rather gouge his eyes out with a fork. I don't even bother to ask him about them when I get the invitations in the mail. I just throw them out." The look Wilson is giving me is kind of silly. "Please, do you have any idea how many requests to speak he gets every month? It's ridiculous." Standing up I set my jaw and head towards the door.

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm off to drop a House one someone."

0.0

I brush straight by Cuddy's secretary and push through into her office proper. She's not seen me yet so I request her attention in the most polite manner I can at the moment.

_HOOOOOOOOOOOONNNKKKKKKKK!_

I'm not feeling all that polite at the moment. But I really love this air horn. It's also really amusing watching her attempt to pull herself together after I just scared the crap out of her.

"Good morning, Dr Cuddy. How are you today?"

"Dr Cameron, just what the hell do you think you're doing?!" She's running red hot and radiating fury. Me, I'm taking the opposite approach at the moment.

My voice when it comes out is the type of ice cold that cuts into a person's bones. No one who hears me has any doubts as to what I'm feeling. "That's quite the coincidence. I was wondering that very thing about you." I seat myself into the chair in front of her desk quite properly, completely ignoring the fact that I'm dressed in the sexiest leather outfit I've ever worn into the hospital. "It's come to my attention that Dr House is going to a conference in Vegas and leaves tomorrow. I find this especially interesting since I hadn't realized he'd changed his mind since I _personally_ sent his regrets that he would _not_ be attending as their keynote speaker."

"Clearly Dr House has changed his mind." It's not much but I can see a somewhat uncomfortable look in Cuddy's eyes once I mention the previous declining of the invitation.

"Let's cut out the bullshit here." Now that shocked her. I guess that Cuddy doesn't realize where I stand on this. Which I suppose doesn't bode well for what she must have said to House. "What did you say to him to make him go to this? He hates public speaking with a passion, which is a real shame since he's really good at it."

"So you think he should speak there as well?"

I can only stare at her in complete shock. "Are you high or something? No, think this is a horrible idea! He'll be miserable. I'd never in a million years sign him up as a keynote speaker which is why I rejected that invitation out of hand." Only now do I realize that I'm standing and have knocked over my chair.

"Dr House is a important resource of this hospital that needs to contribute to our medical program more than he does. If you recall he recently cost this hospital an enormous amount of money when Vogler pulled his funding. I feel that he should have a hand in restoring our reputation."

"Dr House also is the best doctor you have on staff. Don't bother to deny that fact either because I've heard you telling other doctors, donors, and even patients that. He's also the most widely published doctor in this hospital. He's published more articles in various professional journals than any other three doctors combined. And you don't even know that because he doesn't submit the paperwork so he could get the bonuses the hospital offers for those articles that enhance the reputation of the hospital."

I'm yelling now and I can't find it in me to stop. "You talk about the reputation of this hospital as if it's not something that he's had a huge hand in building. I'm the one who does his mail. I'm the one that sees the dozens of requests he gets each month from around the world to speak. I'm the one that has been editing his articles so that the journals are flat out begging him for more. I'm the one that reads through every consult request from countries that you might not even know exist. Don't fucking tell me that he needs to do more for this hospital's reputation!" When I see that she's about to open her mouth to say something I cut her off.

"But none of that matters. You're technically his boss, so if you manage to convince him to speak at one of these conferences that's your business. What is _my_ business is when you somehow use _me_ to do it when I had no hand in it. How fucking _dare_ you use me against him." My voice has gone cold again and I'm leaning over her desk. "I don't know what you think you figured out about our deal for my coming back, but I can assure you that whatever it is is wrong. I'm going to tell him the truth, that I had nothing to do with this. I'm going to tell him that he can do whatever the hell he wants without any repercussions on my part. I'm also not going to be coming into the hospital until Tuesday."

I spin on my heel and start to walk off when Cuddy's voice causes me to turn back to her. "He's never going to change. He's never going to become a guy you can love. He'll always be the same person he's always been. He's not going to suddenly become a better man no matter what you try."

"That right there's always been your problem. You try to change him, to use him, to make him a better man. You're completely overlooking the one thing I've always known about him. He's already that better man. Why would I want to change him? He's already someone I can love just the way he is."

"You'd ruin your career over him?"

I can't help but laugh at this. Maybe she really is this stupid where House is concerned. "You don't actually think I came back to this hospital because I missed the work do you? I was the student of the famous Dr Gregory House and he wrote me a letter of recommendation that most doctors would cut off an arm for. I could go to any hospital in the country and practically write my own ticket. I came back because he wanted me to. I came back because he showed he was willing to do anything to get me back. He could have backed out of the whole thing and I still would have come back. And if he left I'd follow him."

I can't stand the idea of being in the same room as this ungrateful witch any longer. I step through the doors of her office that apparently didn't shut after I stormed in. And neither did the ones to the clinic. Apparently my voice carried quite well. Everyone in the vicinity is staring at me. Including House. Perfect.

I continue on my way out of the hospital without a backward glance.

0.0

End "Battle Lines"

0.0

Chapter Notes: This chapter had one of the scenes that this story was designed around. I'm hoping that it reads as well as I've pictured it in my head. That being said, I'd _really_ appreciate some reviews on this chapter telling me what you think about it. Also, as some of you may have noticed I've updated 3 chapters today so if you skipped straight to this one you might have missed something important.


	8. Adaptation

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster.

0.0

"Adaptation"

0.0

"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man." - George Bernard Shaw

0.0

I've always considered myself a planner. Things go wrong; come up with a plan to fix them. Investigate the cause of your husband's cancer. Discover statistically significant occurrence of cancer associated geographically around a chemical plant. Receive a fairly substantial settlement from a chemical company. Pay off all of your debts from hospital bills, student loans, and funeral expenses. Invest the remainder so that you can live off the interest for the rest of your life without ever touching the principle and still manage to grow your nest egg. Try to live with the knowledge that you'll never see your husband again.

Still working on the last part.

I'd promised Michael that I'd try to move on after he was gone. All I really did for the longest time was focus all of my effort on becoming a doctor and then becoming a better one. I wasn't going anywhere. I still had problems facing death and that isn't something a good doctor can live with.

House gave a lecture once when I was at the Mayo Clinic. No idea how they got him out there. The auditorium was packed and I was all the way at the back. I doubt he remembers the lecture at all. I'm fairly certain that he was at least mildly intoxicated at the time. But he still showed more insight into how to diagnose patients drunk than several of our instructors at Mayo.

I don't know why that sticks with me, but it does. I don't even remember what he actually said during the lecture. But a couple of years later when I heard through the grapevine that he was looking to hire someone for a fellowship I signed up without a second thought.

Funny how things work out.

0.0

I'm only home for a few minutes before I start tearing into my apartment. The original plan for the rest of this week involved stepping up the chaos in the hospital on Friday and moving into heavy duty seduction. If everything had worked as I'd hoped I'd have been pinned to House's bed by the time Sunday clicked over into Monday. We might have even called in sick to work. That would have been nice. Thanks a lot Dr Cuddy.

My largest suitcase gets thrown onto the bed quickly followed by a hanging bag. I start pulling out various articles of clothing. It's do or die time and I've got to make sure I'm dressed the part for whatever might come my way.

Little black dress. Onto the bed.

Motorcycle jacket. Onto the bed.

Sexy lingerie. Onto the bed.

Outfit after outfit gets tossed into an ever growing pile of clothes. Everything from my normal serious doctor clothes to clubbing clothes go onto the bed. I figure if I plan for everything then I can take advantage of whatever comes my way. People say you can't anticipate everything. Well I'm sure as hell going to try.

Pulling out my cellphone I dial Wilson's office number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dr Wilson, it's Cameron. I need you to find out House's flight information without letting him know."

"I think that time would be great for an appointment." Hunh?

I pause for a few seconds and look at my phone to make sure I dialed the correct number. Sure enough it is Wilson's number. "What the hell are you...House is in the room with you isn't he?" It would explain things.

"That's correct. I'll see you here in an hour if that's alright."

"Are you saying you'll call me back in an hour?" This is confusing. I'd apparently make a really crappy spy.

"Yes. See you in an hour then."

_Click_

Well I guess he'll call back in an hour. I suppose I can start by calling up my travel agent to get things ready. It helps that he's my brother.

0.0

I pick up the phone on the second ring. My brother is on speaker on my landline so he can work his magic as soon as I can get the information from Wilson.

I click the talk button and throw Wilson onto speaker as well. "Cameron? I got House's whole itinerary from Cuddy. Mostly I think that she believes that if I have it he won't conveniently lose it." Excellent. We quickly go over the information and my brother starts doing his magic. He already knows what he needs to do. We also already had argument about chasing after my boss. We've agreed that he'll help me out and not say anything else about it as long as he can reserve the right to say _he told me so_ if it all blows up in my face.

I thank Wilson for telling me everything and make him promise not to tell House about this before I hang up. I think he suspects something, but there's no way in hell I'm actually going to tell him what I'm doing. Too many of my plans have already gone into the crapper because of people interfering in them. I'm not going to take any more risks than I have to.

"Allie, are you sure about this? It's going to cost you a decent chunk of change to do things this quickly. Is he really worth all this trouble." So much for not saying anything else about it. Thanks a lot Carter. "Look just take a deep breath and tell me the truth."

I do what he says and take a deep breath. I think about how I feel about House and how much I enjoy working with him. And then my mind goes back to the night he took me to see the monster trucks. That was when it happened. That was the moment that it changed from a stupid crush on my boss to falling in love with him. And that's what I tell him. "I love him. I didn't think I could actually love again after Michael died and then it just happened. I wasn't looking for it, but now that I've found it I'm not going to let it go. I don't want to look back on my life and think 'I had another shot at love and didn't take it.' Does that answer your question?"

The line is silent for a long time before Carter speaks again. "Yeah, I guess it does. Just take care of yourself Allie. I hope everything works out and I'll do my part. Everything will be waiting for you at the gate."

Hanging up on Carter makes this all too real. I'm really about to take one of the biggest risks yet in this whole deal with House. He could view all of this as my lying to him about my involvement with this whole conference fiasco. That would probably kill all of my chances straight off. Geez, way to keep positive there Allison. Why don't you just imagine the plane crashing into a mountain while you're at it? Or maybe the hall catching fire while House gives his speech.

Crap! The speech. That's probably what he was working on while he was in his office yesterday. I hope he sent a copy of it to the people in charge of the conference because there's no other way I'd be able to get my hands on it before hand. As much as I love the man he has horrible habits when he writes things.

A quick check of my e-mail gives me the number of Margaret Smith, the woman in charge of the printed documents. Several minutes and a phone call later I've got a copy of his speech and lecture notes. Another phone call to Margaret and I've got her saying that she'll print off a special insert for the program with the appropriate items as long as I can get it to her before 8PM tonight. Right as I'm about to hang up she mentions that they didn't receive a powerpoint presentation from Dr House. I tell her that I'll make sure they have it as soon as we get to the convention center. Oh and can she make sure the appropriate person knows that Dr House will require a podium that's both wide enough to prevent people from seeing his legs still capable of having him sitting on a stool.

I've suddenly got a lot of work to do on a deadline. Looking around at the mess of my bedroom I settle down to make some serious choices on what is going with me and what isn't. As I start folding up clothes and putting them in the appropriate piles it occurs to me that I need to make sure that House packs the right things. This is taken care of by a quick phone call to Wilson. He sighs and tells me he'll make sure House has all required items I list off.

"And don't let him shave tomorrow before you drop him off at the airport. He's had to put up with that for long enough. If he has to do this then people are just going to take him as he is."

Wilson actually laughs at that comment. "I'm sure that this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you think he's sexier that way. Your words by the way."

"Nothing to do with it." Liar!

"Will do. And will I be seeing you at the airport as well?" I know I wasn't exactly being subtle, but he's still too perceptive for my peace of mind.

"Bye Wilson."

0.0

I manage to finish editing the speech well before the deadline. The speech actually wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. Personally I think this lends credence to my theory that he writes most of his articles while he's at home drinking. There were a few parts that I tightened up a bit and a few more that I put some extra details in that I pulled from a few of his other articles. I also sent Margaret a quick thank you note for helping me out with everything.

My bags are set by the door with only my laptop being left out. The cab company gets called so that they know to send someone at 8AM tomorrow. It's probably way too early, but I don't want to risk anything going wrong on my end. After setting my alarm for 6AM I slip under the covers and open my laptop to get started on the powerpoint presentation. This way if I fall asleep while writing it I'll already be in bed and won't oversleep. I don't even realize it three hours later as I drift off with the project only half done.

0.0

End "Adaptation"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Yeah, sorry this was mostly a filler chapter to move things along. Hate to do it but it has to happen sometimes. And, yes, I _know_ that some of what I'm doing is obvious, but _That's the Way It Is._ And, yes, that is a song title that has absolutely nothing to do with this story. I'm evil. Also, this chapter's quote is once again from George Bernard Shaw. It works.


	9. Traveling

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Expect different things. Laughter and tears. All is fair game. Buckle into your seat and don't stand up on the rollercoaster. This chapter is for phnxgrl and ladybellatrix who've been reviewing quite often and lending their support. Thank you. Your encouragement has kept the chapters coming as quickly as they have been.

0.0

"Traveling"

0.0

"We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend." - Robert Louis Stevenson

0.0

I'm parked behind my laptop in the first class lounge at the departure gate working like mad on the powerpoint. Windows are open left and right as I grab pictures off various websites and save them to the hard drive. The tough part is also remembering to make notes on where I get each image from so that I can properly annotate at the end. It's a real pain in the ass, but these presentations can get to be really messy that way. I'm also sending out a truly massive number of e-mails requesting permission to use these same images. Luckily on that front I'm also quickly getting affirmative responses. I'm not too proud to draw on House's professional reputation in this manner. I've done it before.

If I'd thought about it I would have switched up the order of the speech to make the powerpoint flow better, but I was more limited there than I am here. Make due, edit, revise, type like mad. I've already asked the attendant three times to make sure I don't miss my flight. I think she'd be more irritated if she hadn't seen how badly my hands were shaking. Nervous, no not me. Just because I haven't seen House show up yet, doesn't mean I have anything to worry about. I've also asked to be told when he's informed about his seating upgrade.

Stop worrying Allison. There's nothing else you can do. Whatever happens happens. Great, now my internal monologue sounds like it's coming from an after school special. Screw you Mr Belding.

I'm in the middle of working on the text for one of the pages when the attendant gently shakes my shoulder. "Dr Cameron, it's time to board your flight." What?! It can't be time already! Where's House?

I'm rapidly approaching a panic attack when another airline employee approaches me and tells me that House was just told about his upgrade and has already boarded the plane. I almost collapse back into the chair. I do a quick check of my e-mail and see that I've gotten replies to the rest of my requests. Grabbing my laptop I unplug from the wall and hurry down the ramp to the plane.

I see him almost immediately. I really need to remember to thank Wilson for not letting him shave. It's not his normal level of stubble, but it's still enough to make my breath quicken. He's clearly enjoying the first class seat because it gives him more space to stretch out his leg than both coach and business class do. If we're going to be traveling on the same plane there is no way in hell I was going to let him be stuck in coach. He's not looking at me so I put my carry on bag into the overhead compartment. I'm still carrying my laptop in my hands though because I hope to get some more work done before we take off.

"Excuse me, could I get by you to my seat?" I can tell the exact moment that he realizes that it's me. He stiffens slightly as he tilts his head up and looks into my eyes. "Hey."

"Well Dr Cameron, I suppose it's just some massive coincidence that you happen to be on this flight to Las Vegas. And sitting next to me no less." He nonetheless moves enough so that I can get by.

"Don't be ridiculous. Who else is going to keep the forks out of reach when you want to gouge your eyes out? I know how much you hate these things. I'm just _following_ you to make sure things turn out okay. Trust me this is now how I wanted to spend the remainder of the week. I had plans in motion that I'm really going to regret missing." Not enough _not_ to follow you most of the way across the country. "To think we're going to miss the manikin dressed in a full gimp suit being delivered this afternoon to the front desk for Dr Chase." At least I have people laying in wait with cameras.

House lets a laugh sneak through before he can cut himself off. "I wish I could see that."

"I'll have someone e-mail the photos to us." I figure that this is as good a time as any to get the crap Cuddy left me with out of the way. "Look, I know that you heard at least some of my discussion with Cuddy. I don't know how much, and I don't want to know. I will say that I didn't lie about anything when I was talking to her, and that I didn't have anything to do with this keynote speaker thing." I take a deep breath. "I hope you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't do that to you. That being said, I talked to Margaret last night-"

"Who?"

"Margaret Smith, the woman in charge of the printed programs for this thing. Anyway I talked to her last night and she has a revised version of your speech to go into the programs. If you want to see the changes I made I've got a printed copy in my bag I can grab for you. Or you can just read it off my laptop later. I'm about three quarters done with your powerpoint presentation and should be finished with it by the time we land. We've got a rental car waiting for us at the airport and we're currently booked in a suite in a much better hotel than you were in before." I'm a little out of breath at the end of this because I kept speeding up.

House is just kind of staring at me for a minute or two before he speaks. "How many articles have I published since you started to work for me?"

"I don't know exactly. You've published thirty seven in the past two years though."

"How do I take my coffee?" The hell?

"Black with two sugars."

"What's my computer password?"

"Hendrix4ever."

"Why do you wear that that gray pair of slacks at least once a week?"

There's no way in hell I'm going to admit that! I know he likes watching me in those pants. Crap! I don't even need to say anything. He can tell that I know about his watching me by how much I'm currently blushing. Bastard!

"That's what I thought." With that he just pulls out his gameboy and starts playing. I roll my eyes and start working on my laptop until we're ready to take off.

0.0

The plane is jostled a little bit because of some turbulence and I'm startled awake from my nap. My first instinct is to reach for my laptop to protect it, but it's not there. I fight down the panic when I see that House has it open in front of him and appears to be going through both his speech and the powerpoint that I finished an hour ago. I suppose I still want his approval because I'm somewhat anxious to hear what he thinks of it. Luckily he speaks before I can ask him.

"This is really good work." He looks at me and I can tell he's being serious. "I hadn't even thought about a powerpoint presentation when I wrote the speech. And you somehow managed to put all of this together since you talked to Cuddy yesterday?"

I can only nod, because that's exactly what I did. Let's hear it for being a perfectionist. Gimme a Fuck! Fuck! Gimme a Cuddy! Cuddy! What's that spell? Fuck Cuddy! Okay I really need more sleep. And less caffeine. And sex with House. Screw the rest of it. I just want the sex with House. There goes my mind back into the gutter. Avoid the wine and avoid sleep deprivation and I'll only want him every other minute instead of all the time.

I only now realize House has been speaking to me. "Sorry? I think I must have zoned out for a second there."

"You realize now that I know you can do these you're going to keep doing them forever right?" I roll my eyes at him before I grab the game boy out of his lap and start playing. "Well that's real mature. I thought being immature was my job."

"Not until Monday. Until then you have to be the mature one. Technically I'm playing hooky from work."

The silence continues for several minutes before House is the one that caves in. "Look, about that discussion you had with-"

"No. We're not having this conversation now. You don't want to have it. I certainly don't want to have it on a plane filled with strangers because then at some point you'll think I manipulated the outcome. I've worked too damned hard to screw this up by having our already extremely long overdue talk too soon and blowing it when I'm not able to scream and shout and throw things to get my points through to you if I need to. There's also no place for us to go and take a quick break away from each other if we lash out." Gee, someone might think that I've put a lot of thought into this.

I do think I derailed his train of thought with those points because he's giving me that rather odd stare once again. Eventually he gives what I can only interpret as a quiet sigh of relief. "Okay. Sounds good. We'll do that then."

I give a somewhat unladylike snort and go back to playing on the gameboy. Minor crisis averted.

0.0

We get off the plane and make House stand by the luggage carousel while I track down our rental. After several checks of the computer and my drivers license they tell me that someone will bring the car around for us to the nearest exit. I shrug and head back. All in all it was fast enough that the first set of bags are only just coming down the conveyor when I get back. Unfortunately it's another ten minutes before all of our bags have come through.

There's a guy holding a sign with my name on it so we head towards him. He takes our luggage for us and I blink slightly. What the hell? He's just supposed to be taking us to our rental car. Something is starting to seem a little bit fishy. I look over towards House for reassurance, but he also looks a little confused is gripping his cane tighter as we follow.

I blink when we step out into the sun and things are now becoming clear. There are actually two cars waiting for us. One looks like a fairly standard SUV with the rental car company's logo on the side and the luggage is getting loaded into the back. The other car is the surprise. House grins at me once he realizes what's going on and I grin back. At times like this I remember why I love my brother despite how frustrating he can be at times.

"I love my brother." I'm somewhat embarrassed that I actually said that out loud. House looks at me again after staring at the car some more.

"He's the one who arranged this?" At my nod he laughs. "I think I love your brother too."

Sitting at the curb is a black car with the smooth rounded lines that only come from one company in the world. My brother rented us a Porsche 911.

0.0

End "Traveling"

0.0

Chapter Notes: As some of you have no doubt noticed (At least I hope someone's noticed) there are in fact errors in most of my chapters. I'm going very much against the grain and just writing these chapters up as quickly as they come to me and there's not a whole lot of proof reading going on after the fact. I am in fact aware that Cameron went off to "Drop a House _one_ someone." Sorry. It will get fixed eventually. As will a couple of 1st/2nd person perspective errors on my part. Cut me some slack here! This is the fastest I've written in ages! I'm not really being fair because no one has pointed these out and I've always been my own worst critic...well except that one review I got that one time for another story...but that guy was totally right and I've been working to fix what he pointed out. Anyway...SURPRISE! Another couple of chapters only a day later! Talk about in the zone! In case I don't get away to the Panera again to publish...Merry Christmas and Happy Festivus.


	10. Tight Spaces

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Thanks once again to ladybellatrix who reviewed my last chapters before I even left the Panera, and to phnxgrl who also always reviews. This one's for you. ENJOY.

0.0

"Tight Spaces"

0.0

"Love is being stupid together." -Paul Valery

0.0

I've said that I love my brother and it's true. He's always been there for me even when other people weren't. He helped me get plane tickets at the last minute. He got us a freaking Porsche 911. Oh yeah. I almost forgot. He booked us a suite in the Bellagio.

I'd totally hand him Chase's ass on a silver platter if I had even the slightest hint that the Aussie swung that way. He does like pretty blonds after all. Hmmmmm. Something to think of later. Must remember to have the front desk receptionists send me the photos of the gimp suit.

Our luggage followed us up to the suite immediately. I send the bellhop with House's stuff into the room on the right and tell him to bring the other stuff into the other room afterwards. Do they still call them bellhops? Nevermind.

Seeing him to the door I give him a tip as he leaves. After taking the time to unpack and hang up all my clothes I go into House's room and open up the hanging bag that Wilson sent with him. The clothes inside aren't that bad. I think we'll still make a quick trip to a high end clothier before the closing banquet or whatever it is. There's always something or other at the end of these things and while House's suit is good it's seen a little bit of wear. I make a walk over to the bedside table and pick up the phone. It only takes a moment to let them know I'll need some clothes dry-cleaned and pressed. High end hotels have an ever so accommodating staff. I only stay in the best places. Mostly Carter's doing, but some of it's mine. If I have the money I might as well use it when I go on vacation right?

It's as the door to the room's ensuite opens that I realize I've completely overlooked the fact that House should have been in this room. As well as the fact that the sound proofing of the doors here is excellent. Who knew? Those are the last thoughts that go through my mind. Everything afterwards is pretty much reduced to the level of drooling.

House in a towel.

Only a towel.

I'd imagine if someone was undressing me with their eyes as thoroughly as I am House I'd be looking for a cigarette. He probably feels like a piece of meat. Speaking of which... Bad Allison. Think of the plan. Remember the plan. Follow the plan. Don't look at this crotch again. I told you not to look at his crotch again! Bad Allison! I've been bad. Yes. I shouldn't be doing this. Yes. I need House to punish me. Yes. NO!

I whirl around and practically throw open House's other suitcase. Noooo. It's my favorite shirt right there on top. That's just not fair.

"Cameron." He's laughing! Well I can't exactly blame him. If there was any doubt as to what I was thinking before the massive blush gave it away. "Do you think you're able to give me some clothes to wear so I can ditch this towel." Ditch the towel? Why didn't I think of that?!

"Cameron? Hellooooo? Anyone in there?"

I start to dig through his suitcase when I find it. This could so backfire on me but I just have to do it. Somehow I've got to regain the upper hand. Holding the item behind my back I sit down on the edge of the bed facing him. When he arches an eyebrow at me I hand it to him. It's a pair of socks. "Is that enough for you to ditch the towel or should I find you some shoes as well?"

I get the upper hand again, or he ditches the towel.

Win/win right?

I'm still laughing to myself when he shuts the door of his room in my face. He kicked me out of the room without losing the towel. Spoil sport. I took his hanging bag with me and hand it along with my stuff to the guy who comes to the door. Okay I know that he wasn't a bellhop but I have no idea what to call him either. It's totally going to be bugging me later too.

I pull out my laptop and plug it into the complementary ethernet line the hotel provided. I'm on the phone with Margaret and she tells me who to e-mail the powerpoint to. We have a nice little chat and she lets me know everything else I requested has been handled. She also reminds me that the closing banquet is black tie.

"What?!" That would have been nice to know. House sure as hell doesn't have a tuxedo here with him. Though there's no telling if he'd have brought one if he had known.

"Pardon?" There's a pause on the line before she speaks somewhat hesitantly. "I take it you didn't know this?"

"No, I did not."

"I'm sorry about the confusion. I was quite sure Dr Cuddy was told this when she confirmed." Fuck you very much Dr Cuddy.

"She must have somehow failed to pass that information along. She's so _busy_ after all. I'm sure it's a tough job running the hospital at her age." I can practically hear Margaret's flinch over the phone line. And I'm not even talking about her. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll make sure we arrive in appropriate attire."

"I'm quite confident you will." Go feminine solidarity! "While we're on the subject of the conference," I kind of suppose we were, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to sit on the panel we're having on auto-immune diseases Saturday afternoon. Dr Peters, the head of the Immunology department, was quite impressed with your article earlier this year. When he heard you were going to be at the conference he practically demanded we add an extra seat."

What? Who? How? Apparently my mouth runs on autopilot because my brain is desperately trying to reboot itself. "That's sounds doable. I'd have to discuss this with Dr House of course, but I don't see any conflicts. I'll let you know if one comes up."

"Okay. I'll see both you and Dr House tomorrow morning for the opening."

"Tomorrow."

Good job mouth! You managed that without squealing like a little girl. You are totally forgiven for that whole thing with Wilson on Monday.

House steps through the door in my favorite shirt and I'm just so excited by the news that I grab him by the face and kiss him. I just start babbling about it all that several seconds go by before I realize that I'm standing there with my arms thrown about his neck and he's practically slack jawed at what I've done. And that's when it occurs to me that I just kissed House.

Shit!

Backpedal. Plan. Think of the plan. Follow the plan. You were just excited in the moment. Surely he'll be able to realize that. I mean sure you've wanted to do that for ages. He's incredibly sexy. And that couch looks sturdy. What was I thinking about again?

"Dress!" What? "Tuxedo!" Hunh? No, I'm fairly certain I wasn't thinking about a tuxedo.

And now I'm suddenly not thinking much of anything.

House is kissing me.

Screw the plan.

0.0

End "Tight Spaces"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Umm. Don't really have anything for you this time. Shortest chapter yet because where ELSE was I going to end it? I was as surprised as Cameron was. REALLY.


	11. Conversations Long Overdue

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: As I write this chapter I'm going to tell everyone upfront. I have absolutely no freaking clue how this chapter is going to go. I'm waiting to read it just as much as you are. I just get to do it first. I'm so hopped up on caffeine at the moment that I opened the file and started to read it wanting to know what came next before I realized I had to write it. Here's hoping.

0.0

"Conversations Long Overdue"

0.0

"The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment." - Dorothy Nevill

0.0

In almost every romance story there's this gigantic explosion of passion when the two main characters get together for the first time. It's amazing and more perfect than any other sexual experience either had ever had. The earth moves. Angels sing. All is right with the world and nothing can get any better than it is right at that moment.

I'm calling _bullshit_.

Sex is awkward the first time with a new partner. You're there in the heat of the moment and you're struggling to rip each other's clothes off. Hands keep getting in the way of other hands. One of you trips over a dropped cane, and you both fall head first onto the couch. Not completely bad because you were probably headed there anyway but not all that good either. You totally forget yourself and put your weight on his bad leg and he almost kicks you off before you can get off of it. You're both getting into it again and he all of a sudden has to have the conversation about birth control. And the real topper comes when you're just about to go on the ride of your life. Someone knocks on the door. Happens to everyone the first time right?

"God damn it! What does a woman have to do to get some amazing sex around here?!"

Climbing off House I don't even look at him before I grab my pants and his shirt pulling them on but not buttoning either. Screw everything else. I'm intending to get rid of whoever this is and then drag House into my room that not leaving until we're both too tired to move. This is the new plan. Heaven help anyone who gets in the way of the new plan.

"What do you want?!" I'm fairly certain I just scared the crap out of the guy at the door. I grab the fruit basket out of his hands and demand a permanent marker. I'm mildly impressed when he has one in his pocket, but I don't let him know that. Then right in front of him I pull out and write "OR ELSE" on the bottom of the do not disturb sign and hang it up. I then slam the door in his face.

I keep the sharpie.

Walking towards House I'm glad he wasn't visible from the doorway. Once he's in sight I slowly pull off the clothes I'm almost wearing. Reaching out a hand I pull him to his feet. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off before he can get started.

"No. Right now we're going to go into that bedroom right there. We're going to have the absolute best sex of our lives since we've apparently gotten all possible awkwardness out of the way already. You are going to rock my world. After the second round we're going to have a long talk about where we go from there. However that talk goes we're going to have a round three. And if you can somehow manage it a round four before we have to leave for the conference tomorrow morning."

I pause for a moment to take a really deep breath and close my eyes. It's as if all the confidence I had from the adrenaline going through my system has just evaporated. "If you object to any part of that plan you'd better tell me right now. This is the new plan. I've got nothing else. If you back out on me now you'll probably break me." It's all I can do to hold back a quiet sob. "Even if you can't feel anything for me, can you at least give me this?"

The silence is too long. He's disgusted. He's angry. He's already fled out the door.

I feel a soft kiss on my forehead. "Make sure you leave a wake up time with the front desk. I expect we'll be very worn out by morning."

Hell yes!

0.0

Wow. I totally didn't expect that. I think my brain just exploded.

Maybe those stories have a point after all. Two rounds of fabulous sex later with a short nap in between and I'm lying on my stomach next to House with only the sheet still over us. The only time one of us has left the bed so far was when I called down to have our laundry sent up with some room service after our nap. I apologized to the people at the front desk for my earlier rudeness. They seemed very understanding. I also asked them to divert any non-emergency calls as both of us were quite tired after our flights. I swear I heard the operator chuckling over the phone. The food was good. And kind of led right into round two. Mmmmmm. Grapes.

"So I suppose this is the part where we discuss what we're going to do?"

He wants to talk now?! I'm having trouble maintaining a consistent train of thought and he wants to talk? I don't know if I'm more shocked that he's able to talk right now or that he's the one who's actually bringing it up. Well it was good while it lasted.

"I guess that's really up to you. I think I've made myself pretty clear on how I feel about you." Looking at him I make sure I have eye contact.

"Yeah." And because it is House he can't leave it at that alone. "I think most of the hospital knows how you feel. The ones who don't are in the coma ward."

Maybe I'll just no show up at work again. I can do the differentials over webcam right? "So the real questions are if you are alright with that and if could find yourself feeling the same eventually."

"I don't do this whole feelings thing Cameron."

"Allison."

"What?"

"If we're to the point that you've seen every inch of my naked body, I think we're to the point where you can and should call me by my first name." Come on. It's not that hard. Three little syllables. Or Allie. Only two syllables there.

"Fine. Allison." He makes a face at me and I can't help but laugh a little. "But it just sounds so weird to say your name. Does this mean you're going to call me Greg?"

The question actually causes me to stop and think about it. I'd never really considered it. He's always been House in my mind. Even in private I've never really thought of him as Greg. "Greg." He's right. It does sound weird. "I could if you want me to."

"We can always see how things work out. Go with the flow. Try it out when we're having sex."

"Wait you see us having sex?" Enter hope. I see us having sex. I see us having lots of sex. Maybe too much sex. Though I _really_ want to see us having sex on Cuddy's desk. Yes, I can be a vindictive bitch. Sue me.

"Cameron," I glare at him, "Allison, I'm a healthy forty-seven year old man that's just had the best sex he can remember. Of course I can see us having sex. Sex was never the problem. It's the other stuff you want that I don't know if I can deal with."

"Best you can remember?" I'm not smug. Really I'm not. Okay maybe a little smug.

"That's the part of what I said that you're going to focus on?"

"Yeah, it is. Because the fact you're even willing to have this conversation with me means you're at least thinking about that other stuff that I want. Otherwise you'd have flat out refused to discuss it." I smile and roll onto my back. "I'm already halfway in the door. Which means I'm going to win because I'm not going to give up."

"What? No it doesn't mean that at all."

"I'm going to take another short nap before I wake you up in a few hours for round three. Better get some rest old man. You're going to need it."

"It doesn't mean you're going to win!"

"Please _Greg_. You said my first name just because I glared at you. I'm totally going to win." I roll back over, lay my head on his shoulder, and kiss his cheek. "You're mine now."

"Am not."

He totally is. I don't know for how long but for right now he's mine.

0.0

End "Conversations Long Overdue"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Ha! Just because I'm going where you want doesn't mean I'm not going to fuck with your heads along the way. Fear me for I am hopped up on caffeine and have access to a keyboard! Another short chapter. I'll try to do better. Really I will.


	12. Public Faces

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Let the rollercoaster continue.

0.0

"Public Faces"

0.0

"Actions lie louder than words." - Carolyn Wells

0.0

"Why the hell am I wearing this crap again?" Other than the fact that you look drop dead gorgeous in it with a light layer of stubble on your face that makes me really regret that we fell asleep last night and didn't get to experience round three? What was I thinking again?

House likes breaking the rules. I've known this. He's a free thinker, a nonconformist, a rebel. I can respect that. But he needs a reason to follow the rules. He hates wasting time. Odd for someone who goes out of his way to do just that at the hospital. It's the puzzling cases he likes. One of the reasons he hates clinic duty is that it's so boring. Five minutes in and he knows the problem but has to keep going through the motions because it's required. It's like every day opening a mystery novel and reading five pages and knowing who the killer is. There's no more mystery. No more excitement. That excitement, that mystery is why at the end of this all I'm going to have him. Hopefully.

Right now though I need to show him how to win by following the rules and still make his opponent suffer. "Because Cuddy thinks she beat you when she used me to make you to come to this thing. That pisses me off. Doesn't that piss you off?" Seeing him nod I keep going. "She knows you hate this crap. Everyone who knows you knows you hate this crap."

"Duh. And she won. I'm here aren't I?" He's a genius. I've got to remember that. But sometimes it's so hard. I'm trying to show him a different way. I don't want him to change how he thinks. I just need to show him how I think.

"That's because you were being me. You suck at that. So we're going to do it again. But this time we're going to kick some ass. We're going to beat them at their own game. I told Cuddy exactly why the hospital was lucky to have you. I told her how much you enhanced _her_ hospital's reputation. After this she's going to come to you with whatever you want in order for you to stay."

"And why is that?"

"You've got Allison Cameron the Queen of Rainbows and Fluffy Kittens on your side." I smile at him, and he winces. It's not a nice smile.

I may be the nice girl but that's just who I am naturally. I make friends. People like me. It doesn't come up often, but I can be nasty. My younger brother was openly gay in a middle class suburban high school. I learned to be mean. I learned to fight dirty.

It's an important lesson for someone to learn. Just because a person doesn't, doesn't mean they can't. I spent a long time protecting my brother by being the biggest bitch on the playground. People figured out quick not to fuck with people I cared about. Cuddy fucked with someone I care about. Someone here helped her. Some people never get taught the right lessons early on in life.

I think someone needs to get taught a lesson.

"Is it wrong that I'm really turned on when you smile like that?"

Whipping my head around to look at the clock I swear under my breath. "No, except we don't have time to do anything about it. Have some coffee while I get changed. And remember that if you're _really_ good today I'll be _very_ appreciative tonight." I start to sashay back into my room when I pause and backtrack over to him. I guess I should say this now. It really pissed me off when Cuddy manipulated him like she did. He should know up front that I'm not going to do the same thing without telling him.

"Look. I'm not going to lie to you. I want you to go along with me on this. I think you'll be happy with the results if things go as planned. If things don't go as planned the worst case scenario is that we're only out some effort on both our parts. I won't hold sex over you so that you do things. I might however be especially thankful if you do things well. Either way, at the end of every day that this thing between us keeps going, I intend to be wrapped around you screaming your name." I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him right next to his ear. "That's a promise."

0.0

The first person we see upon getting out of the car at the hotel where the conference is being held, after the valet of course, is Margaret. She's almost exactly what I expected with one exception. She's a much younger than I imagined for some reason. I was picturing someone in her mid to late forties. She's probably only a few years older than I am. Call it early to mid thirties.

She's her ever helpful self and after introducing herself to us hands me information I asked for last night while waiting for room service. She's very quickly become my ally in this little war I'm waging. Greg immediately asks me what it on the papers after she walks away.

"We're about to completely blow away any reputation you had for not paying attention to other people in the medical field. With this information you will know at least something about every person who might possibly approach you."

"It'd take a miracle for that to happen. Because I don't actually pay attention to people, only the science. You should know that."

"I also know that's not exactly the truth, but never you mind that. You're going to charm the socks off of everyone here because I'll be right next to you telling you their full names and most recent article topics as they approach."

"And how are you going to pull _that_ off?"

"I have an excellent memory. While you give your speech I'll be going through this packet memorizing names, faces, and articles. Which means you can't let yourself get ambushed by anyone before you meet up with me."

"Makes sense. Don't really want to talk to anyone anyway."

"One last thing I need to mention here before we go in." I take a deep breath. "If anyone talks about me sleeping with you, don't deny it." I hold up my hand when he's about to protest. "I'm not saying to confirm it either. Say nothing. Give them a curious look. Glare at them. Whatever. Just don't deny it. You can confirm it if you want as long as it's tasteful and respectful. But you _can not_ deny it." Ask. Ask. ASK!

"And why not?" Yes! He asked me. He didn't just assume. He didn't go off the rails. He didn't stalk off pissed.

"Because, if for some reason it does come out, I want people to know as fact that we never lied about it. If it comes out when people leave they're going to go back to their hospitals raving about, 'Isn't it amazing how great a team Dr House and Dr Cameron make, and didn't you hear, they recently got together'." Seeing his blank look I sigh. "It's much better if that's their impression instead of, 'I hear she fucks him so she can keep her job'." I see his fist clench angrily. "Exactly."

0.0

The speech goes pretty well. He's following along the podium copy I included for him that tosses out a few slightly naughty jokes. House has a reputation already as the bad boy and I don't want to ditch it completely; I just want to leave people with the impression that his bad points have gotten exaggerated by his critics. What's important at the moment is he has people's attention and isn't just reading off his speech like a robot.

I'm backstage when I get approached by a Dr Angstol. He's the doctor who's name went out on the official invitation I got and rejected. This makes him my number one suspect for Cuddy's rat. He tried to talk House's ear off before the speech but got deflected easily. Greg is good at that.

It does actually seem weird to call him that.

Anyway I've finished my self inflicted homework and am focusing on the speech so I don't immediately see Angstol approach. When I do notice I find he's been staring at me and I'm bothered that I don't know for how long. He's kind of got that pushy attitude people have when they can't stand not being acknowledged the most important person in the room. Which I totally don't understand in his case because he's not that prominent in his field since I'd never heard of him before, according to Margaret's report he's published only a couple of somewhat mediocre articles several years ago, and he's probably about between House and I in age so there's no real excuse for either of the previous points.

"Can I help you?" Go away. I don't want to to talk to you right now.

"Dr Cameron, right?" At my nod he sticks out his hand. "Paul Angstol. I work at Mercy Hospital here in Vegas." Wow, talk about an obvious search for an ego boost. How humble of you to somehow neglect to mention you're the organizer. Hmmm, how would Queen Bitch Cameron have dealt with him back in the day?

"Ah, it must have been quite easy for you to get some time off to attend the conference then. What an opportunity for you." Judging by his wince the jab does not miss. Now it'd be really difficult for him to mention that he's the main organizer without risking offending me. After all I really should know that already.

"We're all really glad Dr House was able to speak to us here."

Perfect. "Well, to be honest I'm glad I was able to make so many changes to our schedule on such short notice. I could have sworn I'd sent a reply saying we wouldn't be able to attend. Why I had to divert several urgent consult requests for Dr House's expert opinion to other doctors." True statement, but only because Foreman, Chase, and myself are other doctors and we did several consults on Wednesday that were indeed sent to House. "It was all terribly inconvenient and ruined several long term plans I'd had in the works." The seduce House, have lots and lots of mind blowing sex, and live happily ever after plan foremost amongst them.

"I'm sorry you had to go to all that trouble." Not yet you're not. But give me some time and I'll fix that if you pop up on my radar again. "I've actually heard some wonderful things about you as well." Hunh? Can we say out of left field? Oh god I'm thinking in sports metaphors now. "Perhaps you'd be able to tell me what it's been like working for Dr House. You're staying here aren't you? Maybe we could meet up for drinks at the bar later tonight?"

I'm completely speechless. There's just so much wrong with this situation I don't know where to start. Is he hitting on me rather poorly? Is trying to pump me for information about House? And isn't it more than a little creepy that he's claiming to know where I'm staying? I'm very glad that I'm _not_ in fact staying at this hotel and that I have plans with Greg.

It is getting easier and easier to think of him that way.

With perfect timing the speech ends and Greg walks off the stage. I turn away from Dr Creepy and smile at him. Hopefully he'll pick up the _help me_ signals I'm sending to him. "Dr House, Dr Angstol just invited us out for drinks later tonight. Do you think we'll have time? I know there were some things you wanted to do tonight." Once I'm sure only he can see me I lick my lips. He gets the hint immediately.

"I'm afraid not tonight. Besides didn't you say something about a dress and a tuxedo last night? We'll have pick them out after your afternoon panel today. I just don't think we'll have the time for everything and drinks." He remembers that? Wait, crap! We do have to go shopping for clothes for the black tie event.

"Oh, I'd totally forgotten about that. The whole panel thing kind of pushed it out of my mind." I turn back to Dr Creepy and give him our regrets ignoring the fact that he'd really only invited me. But I'd be getting back to him later. Or perhaps _at_ him later. He was definitely on my list now.

Linking my arm through Greg's I start to lead him down towards the crowds of people he needs to win over. "I liked the speech. You really had them in the palm of your hand."

"Thanks. So who was that schmuck?" I chuckle because he said it quietly enough that it would seem to be a private conversation between us and loud enough that Angstol could still hear.

"That was Dr Paul Angstol. He's an Orthopedic specialist at Mercy." Just enough to rub in the fact that I did already know who he was. Oops, so sorry.

"Never heard of him." God, I love this man. That was perfect.

"There's no reason you should have." I shrug. I whisper the next part. "He's the main conference organizer and I'm fairly certain he's Cuddy's accomplice here."

"Well, I'm sure you've got a plan for him then." He sighs. "I suppose you're dragging me off to make nice with people now?"

"Yup."

"Especially thankful you said?"

"Oh yeah."

0.0

End "Public Faces"

0.0

Chapter Notes: So we're getting into the conference itself. Who knows what's in store for us in the future? How evil is Cameron? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? Answers to all these questions and more next time in Hell Week. Okay I probably won't actually answer any of those questions.


	13. Riposte

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Plots thicken. Things happen. Lucky number 13. Well it's lucky for me anyway.

0.0

"Riposte"

0.0

"Last guys don't finish nice." - Saul Alinsky

0.0

I'm quite proud at the moment. Greg's exceeded all my expectations for the day so far. A quick whispered word here and there has had everyone in awe as to how much everyone has misjudged him. He's not the misanthrope people have painted him as. Instead people have found him funny and courteous to almost everyone.

We've got them completely snowed.

As I'd suspected a lot of the non-local doctors here fall into two categories. Either they are at the top of their fields and looking for tips and tricks to make themselves even better, or they're administrators looking to scout out the doctors in the previous category. That's not to say they're not great doctors in their own right, as some most definitely are, but you can see the greed in their eyes.

House is a genius. I've said it before but sometimes the implications don't always register with me as they should. It only takes him a few conversations before he catches onto some of the phrases I've repeated to people. "We don't want to limit ourselves." "We regret not having access to other facilities." "It'd be nice for us to travel more." He gives me an odd look before bringing them up himself on occasion. I gently squeeze his arm and smile at him. I don't know if he's figured everything out or if he's just playing along, but I'm ecstatic. The words are much more effective coming from him.

This part of the plan is actually two fold. First off it puts out the idea that we're not particularly attached to PPTH. I don't know how House feels about the hospital but I'm not feeling any deep seated loyalty to them myself. Cuddy really devastated that bridge and if she's smart she's realized it. What she might not suspect is that I might get House to jump ship as well. The great part about fishing like this is that we don't even have to mean it. If it occurs to people that we even _might_ consider getting out, they'll make quiet inquiries to see the status of our contracts and our attitudes towards the hospital administration. Things that are currently flying rampant around the hospital. A hospital that sees me as a really kind person that would do just about anything for one Dr Gregory House.

It's the second part that is the most devious. It gets people thinking of us as a team. Important for me personally, but not necessarily the main point where other people are concerned. I'm younger and more approachable. People are more likely to sound me out as to what he intends to do than go up to him directly. The upside for me is that whatever I say doesn't actually commit us to anything. House is clearly the senior partner so it's always his decision. But it helps to know that where he goes I'll follow. I mean what good hospital administrator wouldn't want two doctors for the price of one? And one that is known to be able to manage someone who is generally acknowledged to be the most eccentric in his field.

I've already been told how lovely it is in Dallas, Baltimore, DC, and Miami. Several others have passed me their business cards. It's practically money in the bank.

Greg begs out of his current conversation and indicates we should get out. After looking at my watch I nod and we make our way to the door. I shake my head at a few people who look like they want our attention. I mouth, "Later," at a few people I recognize as being well connected. I fully expect to get approached before my panel later. Right now House needs to take some Vicoden and get off his leg.

We get into the hall before starts to fumble in his pocket for his pills but I surprise him already having two in my hand along with a bottle of water that I pulled from my purse. He grunts in thanks and I lead him to a pair of stuffed chairs that I spotted earlier. We sit down facing each other.

"You were outstanding. I couldn't have pulled that off half as well without you cooperating like you did. I'm also aware that I owe you an explanation or two. Ask whatever you want."

"Do you really intend to leave the hospital?"

I look around and no one is nearby to hear us so I tell him the truth. "Only if you do. Right now you are looking as if you're being quite undervalued where you currently are. People want your reputation. And in their mind you're looking as if you've managed to curb your less desirable traits. It's like waving blood in front of a shark for these people."

"But what if I don't want to leave?"

"Then it's still effective because Cuddy will hear about people wanting you. The calculated risk here is that they'll be smart about asking around at the hospital. People will ask if you seem happy. What your working relationship with Cuddy is like. They're not likely to say that you want to change hospitals. Because you never said that and if you're really not considering a change it'd cause all sorts of trouble for you that you'd associate with them later. Instead they'll figure out what they could give you that she can't. Or chooses not to. Because do you really think she _needs_ you to work in the clinic?"

I smirk at him. "What if someone were to ask Brenda if you were happy at PPTH? She'd probably say you had major fights about doing clinic hours. Do you think Baltimore General would hire you to work in the clinic? And what will Cuddy say if she were to get asked if you were under contract to the hospital? That you have tenure. Essentially you'd be giving up a cushy position, but it's still your choice."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

Okay that wasn't a question I wanted him to ask at all. It might even show a little on my face because he frowns. "I started spinning things in your correspondence after you butted heads with Vogler the first time."

"What?"

"I might have changed the tone of a few of your papers. No content changes but rather giving a bit more detail into the techniques you mentioned like you did with the pregnant swimmer, which you did on your own by the way. If you mentioned a technique I'd often go and find people who were using similar techniques and add references to their articles so that other people got some reflected glory. Since I was the one doing all your e-mail you never got the thank you mails they'd send."

"And you thought I'd be okay with this?"

"At the time I was trying to figure out a way for you to keep working if you wanted to should the worst happen. You didn't appear to be making any plans. And I do okay? I make plans for everything. It's what I do. So I made a plan for this." I wave my hand dismissively. "It wasn't for this exactly, but I built up the foundation in case you needed it. Throwing myself into the mix wasn't part of it because I didn't dare think I'd ever be in this position."

"What was the plan for me not saying yes last night?"

"I told you. I didn't have one. The original plan had me seducing you on Sunday night back in Princeton. I figured by then things would have come to a head because I was going to screw with you all of Saturday. When you suddenly came out here I figured if I followed you'd be around me virtually twenty-four hours a day and then I'd seduce you on Sunday night before we left. Yesterday just kind of happened. No plan and no backup."

"So did you get what you wanted yet?" He's blank faced at the moment and I can't tell what he's feeling.

"I hope so, but really that's still up to you. Always has been. You can either decide to give us a shot or you can decide to walk away." I shrug. "Either way I'll still be in your corner during this trip even if it just ends up being because Cuddy really pissed me off."

He nods and stands up. I'm slightly surprised when he offers me a hand up. "Okay. Right now we're testing it out. We'll see how things go. I'm curious to see how well this plan of yours will work. But for right now we're going to run by the casino and win some money before you have go get back for your thing at..."

"Two thirty."

"So we have about three hours to win enough money to pay for your dress and get myself a tux. Sounds fun."

0.0

I'm slightly dumbfounded at how well Greg's been doing in the casino. I don't know if he's just extremely lucky or if his ability to put together all the small details he notices is playing into it. Whatever it is is amazing. When I leave for the panel at two he's already up enough money that people are crowding around him.

I meet up with Dr Peters and he introduces me to some of the other people on the panel. He's probably about fifteen to twenty years older than Greg and reminds me of Kris Kringle from the original Miracle on 34th Street. I like him immediately. I'd had the brief thought he was just blowing smoke earlier in order to help get an in with House, but he actually seems like he's read my paper. Two of the others have as well. So of the five with me, three of them have read it and the other two have asked me for copies. Talk about some positive reinforcement. I guess the only downside is that as involved as the shop talk is getting between us, no one is able to approach me about House.

The discussion gets off to a great start and we're about halfway through when someone from the back row gets up to leave. I don't really care because it happens. People get called or paged and leave to answer. No, what makes this event special is that in the gap he leaves reveals a rather familiar person leaning sitting on the floor against the wall. I notice that Dr Peters sees my smile and follows my gaze. I quickly look somewhere else, but I realize I've been caught.

House is still there as people begin to leave. I quietly approach Dr Peters. I don't know what House wants, but I can't force him by revealing it myself even inadvertently. Before I can get even one word out he cuts me off.

"I don't think what happens in a doctor's personal life is anyone's business but their own. But if I were to hazard a guess, he's here because he's proud of you. And there's reason for him to be. I hope to see you at another one of these Dr Cameron. With Dr House or not."

"Always with him I hope." What did I just say?! I slap my hand over my mouth. No, I couldn't have just said that. That's tantamount to flat out admitting it.

He gently pats me on the shoulder. "Did you say something? I'm not as young as I used to be. They say that you're hearing is the second thing to go."

It's an old joke but he's been nice to me so I ask anyway. "What's the first?"

"I don't remember." We both chuckle and he gently pushes me over towards where Greg is getting to his feet now that people have cleared out some. "I expect I'll see you both at the banquet tomorrow night. Until then, my dear."

"Until then."

House comes up behind me as Dr Peters walks away and places his hand on my shoulder. "You ready to go spend some of my ill gotten gains?"

Spinning around I beam up at him. Looking into his eyes he starts to smile back. "Absolutely."

0.0

End "Riposte"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Man I'd hate to have her pissed at me. I'd like to think I've made Cameron's character develop the way I wanted it to and still have her visible as the character you've seen in the original show. If I've not managed it please let me know.


	14. Nightfall

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: What could go wrong here?

0.0

"Nightfall"

0.0

"The darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow." - Jonathan Lockwood Huie

0.0

We get Greg measured up for a standard tux in a shop near the Bellagio. They're going to have it made up by lunch tomorrow and we'll pick out a matching cummerbund once we know what my dress looks like. I asked him why he was buying a tuxedo that he might never wear again when he tells me just how much money he's won today. Wow. Alright then. I guess buying a tailored tuxedo isn't that extravagant after all. It also explains the slight swagger in his step.

We arrive back at our room and in the process of getting changed into some more casual clothes we get a little distracted. Okay a lot distracted. The whirlpool bath in Greg's room is just perfect. So comfortable and large enough to...enjoy thoroughly.

I'm blowing my hair dry while he watches from the bed when he asks me if there's anything I want to do while we're here. I turn off the dryer and think about it. There's really not. I've not got a whole lot of interests outside of the hospital. I'm a bit of a workaholic at times. I like my bike. I loved the monster truck thing he took me to. That was new. I'd love to go to one of those shows.

"If you could find something like the monster trucks to go to, that'd be awesome. But really there's nothing I want to do. If you have anything you want to do we could do that. The only thing I want to do is pick up the dress first so that I can get that off my mind."

"Why are you so concerned about this dress. You're obsessing about it. Even now you're clenching." Looking down at the hair dryer I notice my knuckles are white from gripping to so tightly.

"Because it pisses me off that Cuddy would do that! Did she tell you that it was a black tie event? Think hard because this is important."

"No, I would have gotten pissed off at having to dig my tuxedo out of the closet." At my slightly disbelieving look he clarifies his statement. "I know I don't wear them, but I have formal clothes. My mother always insisted I have them in case they were needed and I guess I just kept the habit. So I have a tuxedo and a good tailored suit in my closet. The suit has seen better days but is still good. My tuxedo probably doesn't even fit anymore since I got it before..." He trails off and I nod at the obvious situation.

I'm even more pissed off now. "Now do you see why I'm obsessing? She's fucking you over! And for what? She doesn't get anything from it. She mentioned the hospital's reputation when I talked with her, but then she pulls this shit. This actually screws the hospital over. If I hadn't made friends with Margaret we might have never found out. Imagine how you'd feel if you showed up at this thing without a tux. Imagine how _I'd_ feel if I showed up in pantsuit. We'd feel humiliated." When he starts to protest I wave away his objection. "Okay I'd feel humiliated."

"Technically you didn't tell her you were coming with me to this."

"Looking back at the things I said, do you honestly think Cuddy didn't know I was going after you?"

There's a long pause. "No. She knew. I didn't. I should have known but it never even occurred to me. But Cuddy would have known." I'm calm enough to see his face now, and I don't like what I see. I remember now that he's known Lisa Cuddy for a very long time. Medical school if not longer. That much history implies a certain amount of trust and respect. That I've just pointed out isn't there on her part. Shit.

"Greg...I didn't...it's...Fuck!"

"Yeah."

Dropping the hair dryer on the vanity I climb onto the bed and wrap my arms around him from behind. We stay like that for a long time.

0.0

"It feels like we've been shopping forever." I can hear his voice carry into the changing area and I'm glad there doesn't seem to be anyone else in the vicinity besides the attendant.

It's the fifth dress shop we've been in though only the second we've been in that I've actually tried things on in. I really like the current dress I'm wearing. It's sexy while still retaining a healthy dose of class. What really sells it is that whatever material it's made of moves and clings in such a way as to make wearing anything underneath it virtually impossible. So I won't. I don't think I'll need to tell Greg that before the event though. During will make things much more interesting. I gently place it back on it's hanger and step outside the changing room. I hand it to the attendant and ask her to set it aside for me.

I still want to try on one more item and would it be alright if I got my companion's opinion? My expression and the two hundred dollars gets me a nod. She'll just get him for me. And wouldn't you know it her break happens to be right now. I'll be alright on my own won't I?

Of course.

I call out for Greg to come in and help me with the zipper of my current dress. I'm not of course. I'm zipped up into a dress I rejected earlier. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, but it's totally inappropriate for the banquet. It doesn't have that dose of class that the other dress does. It's message is a bit more blatant. _Do me._

Greg immediately gets that message. The fact I'm facing away from him with the dress up high enough to show him I'm definitely not wearing panties only helps his decision.

The sex is even better because it's hard and fast and dirty. I've wanted him for so long that now that I can have him, I don't think I can resist the temptation to give into some of my wilder fantasies. Sex in places we shouldn't have it has been really high up there in those fantasies with him.

Judging from his enthusiastic response it's pretty high on his list as well.

Mark my words. We _will_ be having sex on Cuddy's desk if we have to break in during the middle of the night.

After we're finished and I've changed back into my casual clothes he looks at me confused. "Don't you need to try on some of these other dresses?" He's pointing of course at the various dresses that are hanging up on the wall.

"What? No, I already found the one I want. I've just always wanted to do that with you."

I pick up the dress we just tested out and walk out of the changing area with House following me. I find the same attendant as earlier and hand her the dress. "I'll take this dress as well. Thank you for your help." I wink at her and she gives me a sly smile and a wink in return.

Greg doesn't complain at all when he hands over his credit card. I'm also glad he doesn't look at the price of the two dresses.

0.0

The dresses have been sent to our room in the hotel so I'm much calmer. I suppose the sex in the changing room might have had a hand in it as well. Now I'm ready for whatever he wants to do. I just wish I knew what it was.

We hand our lovely car off to yet another of the ever present valets and walk into another casino. That's not exactly surprising. This is Las Vegas after all. What is surprising is when he leads us through the casino to an adjoining convention center.

There's a line for people to buy tickets to go in but we walk by it fast enough that I can't see what is says. Instead Greg heads straight to the entrance to the hall and whips out two tickets from the pocket of his jeans. I follow him in and stop just inside the door in shock.

Motorcycles.

I let out a small squeal and hug him around the neck. "Oh my god! This is awesome. How did you find this place?"

He gives me that sexy smirk of his and buffs his nails on his t-shirt. "I called the front desk and asked one of the guys about things going on in town tonight. He called up a list for me and this just kind of popped out. As we left the hotel he handed them off to me while you weren't looking."

For a guy who hasn't said one way or another how he wants this thing between us to go, he's sure as hell doing all the right things. I just hope he's going to be able to keep up with what I intend to do to him tonight. My thoughts must be visible on my face because he fakes a groan.

"I don't think I've had this much sex in twenty-four hours in over a decade. Give me some time to recover, woman!"

"I've neither had nor heard any complaints so far." Looking up at him I slowly push my lips against his. It's sweet and romantic and makes me want this man all the more. But it's not just about sex. I love him. I just wish I knew if I'm going to be able to keep him.

"Enough of this mushy stuff. We've got some bikes to look at." He takes my arms off of his shoulders and we walk away. I don't draw attention to the fact that he was the one to grab onto my hand as we walk.

The convention is indeed awesome. There are the regular big name companies here like Harley Davidson, Kawasaki, Honda, BMW, and all the rest. Some of the best displays are from some of the small custom bike shops that can be found up and down the West coast. The East coast bike shops aren't here because of the expense of coming this far for a rather minor convention.

It's as we're looking at a custom chopper that Greg actually reveals something about himself that I didn't know. "I used to ride." He has my full attention now but I don't say anything for fear that he'll clam up. "Before the infarction I used to ride my motorcycle everywhere. I sold it afterwards. It just reminded me of all of the things I couldn't do anymore."

He doesn't say anything else and I squeeze his hand. "Monday was the first time in ages that I've ridden. Michael had just died and I was just so pissed off at everything that I wasn't paying attention to the road like I should have been. I didn't see the sheen of the oil on the road and crashed into the guardrail. The damage to my shoulder from hitting a tree required two surgeries."

"The scars on your left shoulder."

"Yeah."

"So what got you into riding in the first place?"

"A high school boyfriend drove a cheap off road bike. I loved it. I cared more about that bike than I did him actually. So after we broke up I got my own bike. It helped that it fit in with the image I was trying to project at the time. Then again getting arrested helped with that as well."

"Arrested for what?"

I give him a somewhat teasing grin. "That'd be telling." As I walk to the next exhibit I put a little more sway in my hips to get his attention. "Maybe I'll tell you sometime if you're really good. Or maybe if you're really bad."

0.0

End "Nightfall"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Hopefully things are going in a direction that people like. That being said...if it's not...don't expect it to change. Have fun and hope everyone had a Happy Christmas. -K


	15. Conflict

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: This really is a comedy. REALLY. In most every meaning of the word. And if someone guess what that means in a pm I'll congratulate them and confirm. Oh and thanks to phnxgrl who reviewed the all of the most recent chapters.

0.0

"Conflict"

0.0

"The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value." - Thomas Paine

0.0

It's pretty late when House and I finally settle down to sleep. We're both pretty worn out by our extra curricular activities. I'm actually pretty damned amazed that he's managed to keep up with me. And a little sore to be honest. I've not had this much sex in a long time. A _very_ long time. Great sex at that. There is something to be said about sleeping with an older man especially an older doctor. He certainly knows his way around a woman's body.

Still it's not been the physical that I've really been missing in a relationship. There's just something comforting about falling asleep next to someone that I'd never realized I'd wanted until I had it again.

God, I hope that I won't have to deal with not having it.

It only seems like a few minutes later when I'm jolted out of bed by a shrill ringing coming from a nearby table top. What the hell is that?!

Oh, it's my cellphone.

Who the fuck would be calling me on my cell phone at 2AM?! No, it's probably 5AM in Princeton...I think. I hate time zones.

Climbing out of bed I stumble over to the phone and pick it up after tripping over what seems like seven shoes.

"Hello?" Curl up and die you asshole, some of us are trying to get some sleep.

"Hey Dr. Cameron, this is Paul Angstol. We talked at the conference earlier."

What the fuck? "What the fuck?"

Wait. Did I just say that out loud? Apparently my mental filters don't work when I've been woken up from a dead sleep in the middle of the night by creepy schmucks who somehow managed to get my cellphone number. My private cellphone number. That I don't give out to people I don't know. Thinking about it a moment I decide that my mental filters are actually working pretty damned well in this situation.

"Yes, yes we did." I'm hoping that he's intelligent enough to hear the glacial tone my voice has taken. Hoping but not willing to bet on it.

"Great, I was wondering if you were up for those drinks we talked about." He's not that smart. That's also not quite how I remember things. Besides who the hell would go out for drinks at 2AM? Better yet who would _call_ someone they didn't know well at that time in the morning. On a phone number that I did not give him.

"No. How did you get this number?" I think I _might_ have given the number to Margaret, but I don't think I did.

"Oh, your hospital was kind enough to give me your number when I called earlier."

How _kind_ of them. "Thank you. Now don't call this number again. Ever."

I'm glad I've got a phone that I can just flip shut because doing so makes hanging up on assholes quite satisfying. Opening it back up again I quickly the number that just called me to the ignore list. My next action is to make sure Greg is still asleep. He looks somewhat peaceful while asleep but I know it's only a matter of time before his leg starts to bother him again. I look and make sure his Vicodin bottle is on the nightstand beside the bed before pulling on a robe and heading out into the common room of the suite.

I don't think I can describe just how angry I am at the moment.

I'm feeling more than a little violated, and definitely happier than ever that I did not tell anyone where exactly House and I are staying during this conference.

Before I forget I call down to the front desk. I exchange the usual pleasantries with the hotel associate about if I'm enjoying the room and the like. They're quite pleasant. I wonder if they're all aware of how well I've been tipping everyone including the daily cleaning staff. I wouldn't be surprised. I've found out through Carter that type of information spreads fairly quickly through a hotel's grapevine.

I rapidly move onto the meat of my call. Under absolutely no circumstances is anyone not affiliated directly with this hotel to be allowed access to our rooms. This also includes anyone trying to determine which rooms we are in. There's a long pause before the associate asks if this is something that security should be made aware of. I stop to think about this for a moment.

"I don't believe so, however I could be wrong. I just received a phone call from a person who I met at the conference I'm attending on my personal cellphone. I did not give my number to this man. I do not believe I gave this number to any person this man knows. While I was talking to him at the conference it seemed as if he knew what hotel I was staying at, the one Dr House was originally supposed to be staying at before I changed those reservations to this hotel and didn't tell anyone. There's any number of completely logical explanations that could explain all of these things. However I don't think I need to say why I'm somewhat concerned."

"No Dr Cameron, I don't think you do." I think the fact that this associate is a woman has made my point a bit faster than it otherwise might have. "May we have this man's name?"

"Certainly. Dr Paul Angstol. I'm probably worrying over nothing, but..."

"A woman can't be too careful. I understand completely. We at the Bellagio pride ourselves on taking care of our guests."

"Excellent. My next phone calls will be to my hospital in New Jersey to try and find out how he got my number. If for some reason he didn't get the number from them I'll probably be calling again to inform security about the problem."

"I'm making a note in our computer about your wishes now and flagging it so that security will be conscious of your concerns. Any further calls on your part will probably have a member of our security staff meet with you to discuss this in person."

"Thank you very much. There was just something about him that seemed off if you know what I mean. Also, who calls someone they've just met at 2AM for a drink?" I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking up more of your time. Thank you for the help. Have a nice night, or morning I guess."

Well that's taken care of. Now for the call to PPTH.

The front desk phone rings for a while which seems odd to me. Linda is usually quite good at answering the phone even if it's just asking them to hold. It's about five or six there anyway. It shouldn't be that busy. When someone finally picks up I get another surprise in that it's not Linda who answers.

"Hello, Princeton-Plainsborough Teaching Hospital. How may I direct your call?" This person is way too tentative to be Linda.

"This is Dr Cameron. I'd like to find-"

"Oh, Dr Cameron, we had a doctor call us not that long ago who wanted your number."

Well that answers _that_ question. "I see. And I'm to assume you gave him that number?" Let's see if this girl, whoever she is, has a sense of self preservation.

"Of course! I hope he was able to get through to you." The answer appears to be no she does not.

"I see. I'd appreciate it very much if you would put Linda on the phone. Right. Now."

Alarm bells must be ringing quite loudly in this girl's head because she does not sound quite so pleased with herself as she did a moment ago. I can just barely hear her when she squeaks out a weak, "Right away." She completely forgets to put me on hold and I can hear her running off shouting for Linda.

A minute or two goes by before I hear Linda's voice come on the line. "Dr Cameron you wanted to speak to me?"

"What exactly is the policy of the hospital in giving out personal information, such as personal cellphone numbers, of hospital staff to people not associated with our hospital?"

I could swear I hear a quiet, "Oh fuck," come over the phone line before there's a more normal response. "We're not to give our such information."

"I thought so. Do you know what time it is currently where I am?"

"Not precisely." Interesting. So she probably knows or at least suspects that I am not in Princeton.

"Would it surprise you I just got an invitation for a drink from a doctor here at around 2AM on my cellphone? A doctor that I did not in fact give that number to? A doctor who apparently got that number by calling the hospital front desk?"

"Okay Dr Cameron. I've got the point. What do you want me to do?" I also hear a quiet muttering that I'm probably not supposed to hear. "Besides kill that air-headed slut that they wanted me to train before you get here and do it yourself." I smirk to myself at the normally calm and collected Linda resorting to murder.

"I need you to delete or change that number in the computer so that this never happens again. And if you decide _not_ to kill the air-head I'm sure I or Dr House would be more than pleased to come up with a suitable punishment for her when we return." Crap! I can't believe I just said that. "Linda. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about..." How do I spin this? What do I say?

"About what Dr Cameron? I'm sure Dr House would be more than happy to do that once he comes back from his conference. Or you when you come back from your trip to that place you went after your fight with Dr Cuddy that I have no way of knowing about."

"Thanks Linda."

"No problem Dr Cameron. I'll take care of that other thing you asked for as well before I leave for the day even if I have to use Dr Cuddy's computer to do it."

"Thanks again."

"It's nothing. Terry and I've got fifty bucks each riding on you on your being successful with Laurie in accounting."

Betting?! They're betting on me? "Go in for another two hundred for me to win with someone. I'll cover it when I get back and split the profit with you."

"Will do Dr Cameron!"

It's a sure thing bet.

Right?

0.0

End "Conflict"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Some of you are probably scratching your heads and wondering just where the hell he's going with this. Is he planning some up and coming plot twist? An epic tale of tragedy and woe? Or has the Mongoose just gone insane finally? Who knows? -K


	16. Territory

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Yadda yadda yadda.

0.0

"Territory"

0.0

"Be as beneficent as the sun or the sea, but if your rights as a rational being are trenched on, die on the first inch of your territory." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

0.0

The hotel's phone rings and I fumble for it on the nightstand. It's the wake up call I'd had set for six. Great so I've gotten maybe three hours of sleep. I'm starting to hate this conference even more than I did before. Hopefully I'll be able to catch a quick nap or two throughout the day.

House is still dead to the world. I think I've managed to completely wear him out. Yes, I am a little smug about that.

Throwing on the robe I used last night I pad into the main room and stare at the coffee machine for a minute. There's no coffee. I poke at it a few more times. Still no coffee. It's about this time that it dawns on me that I actually have to make the coffee. That fucking sucks! The fact that this ritual seems have occurred every morning for as far back as I can remember eludes me as it always does before I have my first cup of coffee.

A few minutes later I'm about to take my first sip of black gold when a hand snakes from behind me and reaches for it. I snarl instinctively. The hand pulls back immediately. I take a sip. Pure bliss. The hand reaches out again and I snarl once more. This is my coffee damnit!

"Can I have some coffee?"

I think about it for a few moments before I reach for a clean cup and put it on the counter next to the small pot. He _is_ pretty good in bed. I suppose I can share. If this coffee maker was any smaller I don't think I'd be as generous. Absently I empty two and a half packets of sugar in the bottom of the cup before I pour in the coffee and hand it to him.

"Thanks." Sure he's being sarcastic but I don't think he understands how generous I am being. He tried to take my coffee earlier. I've broken up with guys for less.

"So I take it you're really _not_ the morning person everyone thinks you are." I'm about to turn around and give him a piece of my mind when he wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me back against his chest. This is nice. "That's good to know."

By now I've almost finished my first cup and have poured another pretty much emptying the pot. I'm also starting to have some higher brain function once more.

Why is it good to know? Does that mean he's going to be waking up with me more? Is it just something he can use against me at work? What does it mean?

"So what's the plan for the day? Do I go out once more to sow chaos and devastation?" Okay enough worrying about tomorrow. Think about today. Get through today.

"Ummm. Sure you could look at it like that. If you think of attending boring lectures, paying attention, and asking decent questions as sowing chaos and devastation have at it."

"What?" Yeah, I kind of expected that.

"Okay, here's the plan. You attend three lectures. The first three which is why I woke us up this early. You'll be attentive and on your best behavior. Ask at least one good thought provoking question...even if the only good question is one you already know the answer to. Impress people. You don't need to suck up, but make everyone in that room know that you're able to play well with others but are still the best doctor there."

"And after these lectures?" He's frowning at the moment which is why I'm more than happy to tell him the next part of the plan.

"You'll be done by twelve thirty. At that point I suggest you come back to the Bellagio and hit the casino. Don't mention to anyone where you're going just go. Exit gracefully and take the Porsche. The only thing you need to do is make sure you're back in the room by seven thirty so we can get ready for the banquet at nine."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be mingling while you're in the lectures and doing the whole glad handing thing. I'll probably keep at it for another couple of hours before coming back here to get some sleep. I'm exhausted." That of course prompted a discussion of the events that occurred during the middle of the night.

Greg seems if anything more angry than I was over the whole thing. He's half furious and half protective and I have to admit that it's somewhat arousing. I do my best to calm him down and reassure him that I'm going to be taking care of it. Privately I plan to get more information on Dr Angstol from Margaret and possibly Dr Peters but otherwise avoid him as much as possible.

House's hands start to wander a bit and as good as it feels I know we need to get moving. "I wish we had time for that but if you don't get a move on you'll get less time to play in the casino later." At his pout I walk by him into the bedroom. Looking at the clock I grin. We do actually have a little bit of time before the first lecture. I stick my head around the door frame. "We could save time by conserving water you know." I drop my robe in the doorway leaving him no doubt as to my meaning.

We don't save much time but he does make it to the lectures. Mostly on time.

0.0

It's almost noon and there have almost been a steady stream of people approaching me to talk in one of the small meeting rooms that has been appropriated for casual discussions and relaxing between lectures. Since I don't intend to go to any I've set up my laptop and some note pads conspicuously in view. House is wearing a slightly less more formal version of his usual work clothes but I'm in my usual hospital outfit minus the lab coat. To all appearances I'm hard at work on some project or another that was interrupted by attending this conference.

In reality I'm editing another of Greg's articles that I got back a while ago and must have missed. It's not particularly engaging so I'm able to break away to talk with all the people who just have to ask me what it's been like working with the amazing Dr House. I also managed to talk to one of the hotel staff here. He's a nice kid just out of high school that became more than a little angry when I'd discussed my worries. He's continually come by with fresh coffee for my and has sworn up and down that he's made a fresh pot each time. Besides it's not like it's going to waste as he fills other people's cups afterwards.

I'm probably being paranoid but better safe than sorry.

I have a nice talk with Dr Peters and casually bring up Dr Angstol. The kindly man actually frowns when he talks about him. Apparently he's not left a favorable impression on the staff at his hospital despite his job as the main coordinator of this conference. Dr Peters also mentions that some of the female staff have said that he's a little pushy. He told me that he'd do some discreet digging and would get back to me.

After Dr Peters leaves I have some time to get some more work done on the article before I'm interrupted again. This time by a few doctors from East coast hospitals that seem to be sounding me out about House's attachment to PPTH. I give them the usual lines and they seem to walk away with the idea that we're willing to at least hear offers. Good work on my part if I do say so myself. I'm not too sure that I want to go to Boston or Atlanta but they don't need to know that.

I manage to get the article done but instead of sending it off like I normally would I save it for Greg to look at. I want to make sure that he approves of some of the changes I made to it before it gets published. If this whole thing is to work he needs to know that I'm going to keep my word about not manipulating him. And since I already told him that I've been doing this he deserves the chance to veto the changes.

Standing up I take a final drink from my cup of coffee. As if summoned the teenager that's been bringing me coffee all morning comes by. I wave him off when he goes to pour some more. Instead I pull out a few twenties and hand them to him as a tip. When he tries to protest and hand them back I just close his hands over them. He walks off filling up the other doctors' cups as he goes. He gets quite a few thanks and I notice a few other people handing him bills as he goes by. It's nice to see people get rewarded for doing good deeds. I make a note to tell the front desk what a good job he's done today as I leave.

It only takes a minute or two to gather all of my things together so that I'm ready to leave. As I go I'm stopped a few more times by various doctors and am handed another group of business cards to add to the rapidly growing collection tucked away in my bag.

As I'm leaving the part of the hotel that the conference is being held in I notice Dr Angstol hitting on another one of the female doctors that I've seen around. I slip by unnoticed but can't help but smile to myself. Judging by the frown on her face she's about as impressed by him as I was. Good for her. It's also somewhat reassuring in that I'm not the only person that doesn't seem to like him, and I'm not the only person he was hitting on. It's a load off of my mind.

The trip by taxi to the Bellagio is fairly quick and soon after arriving I'm back in the hotel room. A bed hasn't looked this inviting in a long time. My last thoughts before I fall asleep are that I really wish Greg was in here with me.

0.0

End "Territory"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Less going on that the last few chapters but sometimes that just happens. -K


	17. Odd

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Hunh?

0.0

"Odd"

0.0

"I gotta work out. I keep saying it all the time. I keep saying I gotta start working out. It's been about two months since I've worked out. And I just don't have the time. Which uh..is odd. Because I have the time to go out to dinner. And uh..and watch tv. And get a bone density test. And uh.. try to figure out what my phone number spells in words." - Ellen DeGeneres

0.0

Greg gently shakes me awake at seven. Blindly I reach up and pull him down onto the bed. It's an enjoyable way of waking up. We don't get into anything too involved but I'm enjoying making out with him even if it seems a little like being back in high school.

After a few minutes I push him away so that I can get up. I need to get ready for this thing. I don't take as long as I know some women do, but I still need a little bit of time. The shower refreshes me and I get to work on my hair and make up while wearing one of the hotel's fluffy robes. I really like it and wonder if I'll be able to buy one from them. Probably, since people no doubt steal them all the time.

Coming out of the bathroom while my hair is being allowed to set in the fancy bun that I decided to go with for tonight I shoo Greg into the other room's shower to get cleaned up with strict instructions not to shave.

Once my hair and makeup have finished I grab the cummerbund that I'd picked up for him and walk out into the main room. He's siting on one of the couches watching a football game with his tie undone and his jacket over the back of a nearby chair. If we didn't have to go to this stupid banquet I'd jump him right here right now. Instead I walk over to him and do up his bow tie. Black tie attire is definitely a keeper. Now that I know he has this custom tuxedo he _will_ be wearing it again even if the only reason is for me to peel him out of it.

"I'll be out in a minute after I put on my dress." I give him a gentle kiss on his lips and check for lipstick marks. Good the no smudge lipstick is working as advertised.

Closing the door behind me I take off the robe and put on the dress. The gown is just as perfect as I remember. It's an off-white and fairly modest in the front but the back dips down to nearly six inches above my waist. As I'd thought it looks spectacular and clings to me as I move about in my low heels. It also doesn't look indecent and there's no way to tell for certain that I'm not wearing anything beneath it. Lastly I grab the little clutch purse that into which I place some money, a compact, my lipstick, and a bottle of Vicodin for Greg.

Stepping out of the room I'm gratified that Greg's expression is everything that I'd hoped for. I can see his eyes darken slightly with desire as soon as he sees me. When he drags his eyes up and down my body I shiver slightly in anticipation for what will happen after we return. Again I can't help but admire the way his attire looks on his body. It's stunning and if I didn't think he'd object I'd comment that he's a very beautiful man. The only thing marring his tuxedo's lines is the bulge that marks his bottle of Vicodin on the right side.

As we leave the room I ask him how his trip to the casino went. I'm expecting another tale of clearing out the tables like I heard yesterday. Instead he's somewhat reticent. It's very not like him. I wonder if that means he lost money overall. Not that it's a big deal if he did. It's his money. I'm only disappointed that he didn't have as much fun as before. That was the point after all. The trip down in the elevator is passed in a comfortable silence and we get out without having run into anyone else.

That is where the silence ends however. A hotel and casino the size of the Bellagio has quite a large number of staff present in the lobby at tall times. That's not surprising. What is surprising is that every single one of them we pass greets Greg with a nod and a quiet respectful , "Dr House."

If I knew what this was all about I'd probably be more amused at how uncomfortable Greg seems to be with all the attention. "I take it you didn't lose a bunch of money in the casino then?" When he just shrugs I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I came out ahead."

"Should I ask how much?"

He winces. "I'm not too sure. I had other things on my mind at the time."

Most peculiar. It's like pulling teeth.

I'm not particularly worried about whatever it was because everyone seems quite pleased to see him. And they all recognize him at a glance.

As we approach the doors we're intercepted by a man in a tailored suit who introduces himself as an assistant manager of some type. He starts to express his thanks to Greg before he gets cut off by a chopping motion of Greg's hand.

"I'm sorry. We really don't have time to go into this at the moment we really need to be going."

"Of course. We're having your car brought around as we speak. I just want to thank you again on behalf of us here at the Bellagio."

I about turn and stare at him when Greg says, "You're welcome," and walks off. Sure enough our car is waiting for us at the curb.

As House puts it into gear and we drive away I can't help but comment. "That was odd."

"They're hotel staff. I think they're all a little weird."

"I don't really care what happened. All I want to know is if I am I going to have to do any damage control because of this later?"

"Probably not." When he sees my skeptical look he rephrases. "You'd probably think it was a good thing."

"Okay then."

What the hell happened while I was asleep?

0.0

We're about to enter the ballroom where this thing is being held when I hear a shout from down the hall. There's a man I don't recognize almost jogging towards us. Or more precisely towards House as that is the name he shouted. Greg clearly intends to keep going so I grab his hand and stop him. The look he gives me is somewhere between betrayed and resigned.

"Dr House I'm sorry I didn't recognize you earlier at the hospital with all the confusion." Hospital? What hospital? What confusion? I realize I'm not breathing at the moment and I take in a ragged breath.

"That's alright Dr Melrose. It's perfectly understandable. Now if you'll excuse us we'd like to head into the..."

"Oh yes. Quite alright. Quite alright."

I'm practically yanked off my feet by Greg pulling me though the doors. No one inside is sitting at the tables so I let him lead us over to a bar along one of the walls. He orders us a drink and then walks over to one end of the bar.

I'm getting a little bit worried about everything that's been alluded to and I'm getting sick of it. "What the fuck happened?! I'm hearing people thank you left and right which in my mind can only be good, but you're not telling me anything about it which can only be bad. And then I hear that you were at a _hospital_ for some reason. What am I supposed to think? Everything is actually working to plan for once and I think we might have a real shot at being happy and then this happens. I don't want to lose you!"

"Shhhh. It's alright. Everything is alright. You're not going to lose me. There was just a little bit of excitement in the casino and I went with someone to the hospital because I was the first doctor there. Allison, I'm alright."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

I'm probably an enormous mess right now but I don't care. It's not really logical but I was just so scared that something would happen to him before I got a chance to tell him I love him.

"Do you mean that?" He's gently gripping me by the shoulders when he asks and his eyes are so intense. But I have no idea what he means.

"What?"

"Do you really love me? I'm not a good person for you Allison. I'm sarcastic and rude. I'll never be the person comfortable in these situations. I'll disappoint you time and time again. I'll be in pain for the rest of my life and there'll be times where I'll push you away."

I cut him off. Obviously I said some of what I was thinking out loud and it's too late to cover it up now. So it's now or never. "Yes. I love you Dr Gregory House. I don't want anything except what you can give me. I've known every one of those things. And I don't care. When you push me away I'll just push back."

His eyes are still so intense and his expression is completely indecipherable. Do something. Say something. _Anything!_

And then Greg House smiles.

0.0

End "Odd"

0.0

Chapter Notes: What?! You can't end it there. What does that even mean?! Are you just toying with us? Yes. Yes I am. -K


	18. Questions

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way. :-p

0.0

"Questions"

0.0

"To be able to ask a question clearly is two-thirds of the way to getting it answered." - John Ruskin

0.0

We're moving through the room doing some more glad handing. I've fixed my make up from the few tears that must have leaked out during my conversation with Greg and it's as if it never happened.

He didn't say anything. After he smiled at me he didn't say anything. I feel I should be worried about that but for some reason I'm not. It's as if some message passed from him to me without me even knowing what it was. I'm not worried at all.

I'd planned on working the room apart from Greg once I surrounded him by some big name doctors he could talk shop with, but he just wrapped his left arm around my waist when I tried to slip away. Didn't say anything about it. Only gave me a singular look and turned back to the conversation he was having.

I should be worried.

I'm not.

And I don't know why.

Time passes and we're going from group to group and making all the right impressions. Greg may say he doesn't belong here but he does it pretty well with the only prompts from me being the names of the people that are approaching us. Even I can't remember them all and I discover that some of that is due to the presence of quite a few people who fund hospitals. Vogler springs to mind, but most of these seem the good sort.

Still I'd rather be somewhere else with Greg at the moment. I need to know where we stand. What happens now? What does he want?

Eventually we come to the part of the banquet where we all sit down to eat. I'm actually somewhat surprised that I'm sitting next to Greg at one of the head tables. It makes sense after all with his being the keynote speaker, but I didn't really expect to be seated next to him. I'm somewhat suspicious but I smile a little when someone catches my eye at a nearby table. Dr Peters is looking right at me from his seat right next to Margaret. It's odd how I never noticed it before but they look very much alike. I also see that Dr Angstol is sitting at a table near to them instead of the table I'm seated at. I wonder just how _that_ happened.

Also sitting with us at the table is Dr Melrose, the man who approached us as we entered the ballroom. I'd very much like to hear the story of what occurred and he's probably the person to tell me about it. I've been trying to figure out where I know him from since we sat down. Here it seems my memory has failed me because while I know that I've seen face before I have no idea where. Only after subtly listening in on the conversation he is having with his immediate neighbor do I realize who he is. He's the head of Mercy Hospital.

The food is the standard fair for this sort of thing though I must admit the quality is somewhat better than I've had before. We're coming up on the end of the evening and so it's time for speeches and the like. Greg's expected to speak but it's nothing technical and I'm confident that he's got it under control. He's up immediately after Dr Melrose himself.

Once he's up at the podium he looks down at the head table where Greg and I are sitting and seems to smirk slightly. I'm thinking it's sort of odd and am confused when I hear Greg groan slightly beside me.

"As busy as I am running Mercy Hospital I didn't have an opportunity to meet Dr House before today. But it wasn't in my capacity as the head of the hospital. No, it was actually as a family member of a patient." He's fairly compelling himself and has people hanging on his every word. "Apparently Dr House had been told to sneak out of the conference and enjoy himself at the Bellagio's casino by his lovely companion Dr Cameron."

Oh god. Well there goes some of my serious professional reputation. I guess I'm also going to find out what happened earlier today.

"It's understandable really. We can all know how tedious it is to hear a doctor talk to a crowd of other doctors." He gets the expected laugh. "As I understand the events Dr House was up quite a bit of money, I'll refrain from saying how much, at a table in the back of the casino playing Texas hold'um poker. Across from him was sitting my brother."

Greg by this time has his hand over his face as if hoping to hide.

"They'd been needling each other for a while and cards had just been dealt when my brother started having a massive heart attack." The crowd gasps as one. "Without looking at his own cards Dr House gets up and starts taking care of him. The dealer asks if Dr House is done and he flippantly replies that he's a little busy and to just put him down as all in. From what I heard afterwards Dr House had a two four off suited. Which for those of you who don't play poker might be the worst hand you could have. Well as luck turns out not only did my brother make it to the hospital on time with Dr House riding in the ambulance with him. Dr House also managed to win that hand with a four of a kind. Four fours. Not a very likely outcome for a man that didn't even look at his hand."

"I suspect there is quite a bit of money waiting for him back at that casino."

Everyone is looking at our table right now though most politely direct their attention back to Dr Melrose as he gives the usual thanks to the various people involved in the conference and the like. Again I'm struck by the lack of mention of Dr Angstol and wonder if perhaps I was not the only woman to have commented on him.

Greg politely gives my knee a squeeze under the table to get my attention. It works but it also causes me to realize that I have no idea when he placed his hand there. "Can you give me one of my pills?"

I'm automatically reaching into my purse for one when it occurs to me to wonder where the bottle that he had with him is. "What about the bottle you had with you?" I hand him one of the pills anyway but am curious as to his answer.

"I didn't bring any with me." Just then Dr Melrose calls out his name and he stands up giving me a kiss on the cheek as he goes.

I'm very confused. I know I saw the bulge in his tux caused by his pills before we left the hotel room. In fact if I look at him I see it on his right side before it's blocked by the podium. Why would he lie about it?

He opens his speech thanking Dr Melrose and the others at Mercy Hospital for hosting such a great event. But that's when his speech seems to take a drastic turn.

"As some of you may know, I don't particularly like coming to this type of event. I'm almost always miserable. I know I have a reputation for being a rude misanthropic jerk and for good reason." He waits for and gets the expected laugh. "But this trip has taught me a lot of different things. It's opened my eyes to just how much I've been missing out on."

"I've been listening to what everyone's been saying about me during this conference and the most common theme has been that no one had realized what a people person I was. It's all a lie of course. I'm still the misanthropic jerk people thought I was. I just have a really good keeper now."

I can tell I'm blushing now as more than a few people in the audience have turned and smiled at me. After all it's not like House is being particularly subtle.

"Yes, as most of you have no doubt realized, I am talking about Dr Allison Cameron. She's the real secret behind how I seem to know everyone's name. She's the one who is always behind the scenes rewriting my keynote speech so that I don't sound like a moron or sacrificing sleep so that there's an equally stunning powerpoint presentation to go with it. It's no coincidence that the quality of my articles has gone up since she's started working with me. The major publications don't even send them back to _me_ for editing anymore."

"Earlier today there was a bit of excitement at the Bellagio. Mr Melrose indeed had a heart attack and I suppose things did happen as previously described. I don't actually remember much of what was going on around me. Isn't that always the way?"

People are thrown a little by the seemingly odd change in topic. I don't blame them because I am as well. Though truthfully I don't mind no longer being the topic of conversation. Still I wonder. Just what is Greg up to?

"I sat with Mr Melrose in the hospital after he regained awareness and we had a little chat. He's been married and divorced three times but upon realizing that he'd come very close to almost dying none of those were his biggest regret. He said it was the woman he didn't marry that he regretted the most. The woman that he didn't let himself love. That he didn't take a chance on."

"I didn't want to admit it, but I knew how he felt. I thought my life ended six years ago after my infarction. I'll always walk with a limp. I'll always be in pain. I'll always be alone."

Oh no. I can feel the tears in my eyes as I realize he's made his decision.

"I was wrong."

What?

"I've not been alone for some time. I didn't think it would happen but there's been someone right there with me. She's made her position quite clear on where she stands. She's literally shouted it for all to hear. She says that she'll follow me where ever I go."

More and more of the people in the room are craning their heads to look in my direction but I only have eyes for the man staring directly at me from the podium in front of the room. I couldn't say anything if I wanted to I'm so choked up. Not that I want to. I wouldn't interrupt what he's saying for the world. I need to hear this through to the end whichever way it ends up. I blindly reach around the table for a water glass that my neighbor gently pushes into my hand.

"Personally I think she's crazy to think this way. She's told me repeatedly that it's my decision how long this thing lasts. I figure I'd better tell her my decision while she still thinks that. I want it to last forever."

His right hand reaches down from where he had it on the podium and into his pocket. "I guess I have to just hope she's still up for that. Allison, I love you. Will you marry me?" There in his right hand is an open black box with a diamond ring inside.

The silence of the ballroom is broken by the glass that falls from my hand to shatter on the floor.

0.0

End "Questions"

0.0

Chapter Notes: I'm just curious if anyone saw that coming. Be honest.


	19. Answers

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: This chapter is for ladybellatrix who I'm fairly certain I broke by leaving off the last chapter on that cliffhanger. Or at least that's the impression I got from her review about an hour after I posted the last four chapters.

0.0

"Answers"

0.0

"If love is the answer, could you rephrase the question?" - Lily Tomlin

0.0

I'm completely shocked. Greg just asked me to marry him. Everyone's staring at me. He just asked me to marry him in front of an entire ballroom full of strangers. And he's just staring at me now. Why is he staring at me? Why is everyone staring at me?

Oh. That's right.

"Yes."

Next thing I realize my arms are wrapped around his neck and it seems like I'm kissing the life out of him. I'm hoping that this entire thing isn't a dream that I'll wake up from any moment. We break apart long enough for him to slip the ring onto my finger and I go right back to kissing him. When we stop I can see and hear all of the people applauding. We're certainly making a spectacle of our selves. I grab Greg by the hand and pull him out the door.

I spot an empty room and drag him into it. There are tables and chairs set out for an event of some type that must have happened earlier in the day and I push him into one of the chairs.

"Okay, talk fast."

"I asked you to marry me and you said yes."

"Damn straight I said yes. What I want to know is why you asked."

"I was sitting there in that hospital room and realized that you didn't bore me. Every time I think I've got you figured out you show me another part of yourself. You make it easy. I'm not talking about the job either. It's everything. You don't leave me with any doubt as to how you feel, and I've kind of gotten to like that."

"That's not good enough. Why now? Why did you ask now?"

"Because you didn't try to change me. You time and time again let me be myself. Hell Allison, you sent me to a casino to have fun because you knew I'd get bored at the conference. You covered Wilson's office in fake snow and tricked the department into thinking you'd spiked the coffee. You followed me to Las Vegas and rewrote my speech." He scrubs his hands over his face. "You put your trust in me and then gave me the chance to break it."

That's an odd thing to say. "What do yo mean by that?"

"You told me what you wanted in order to come back and then trusted me to do it. Sure you showed up on Sunday to remind me, but you know I could have just blown you off. You didn't call me each night checking on me. You didn't hang out and hover over my shoulder to see if I was keeping my word."

"I had Linda call me when you showed up that first morning." I don't want him thinking that I was better than I was.

He laughs, "I'd have been disappointed if you didn't."

"So what made you want forever?"

"I don't want to spend another night alone. You said you'd follow me wherever I went. I wanted to be able to say the same thing."

"Tell me again that you love me."

He grimaces. "I already said it once. Do I really have to say it again?"

"Yes. Yes you do."

"You going to make me sleep on the couch if I don't?"

"If you ever spend the night on the couch it'll be because I totally wore you out when we had mind blowing sex on it an hour before. I just won't let you in on what I have planned for Cuddy's office when we get back."

"That's totally not fair."

"Say it."

"No."

"Say it!"

"Fine! I love you. I take everything back. You're a real pain sometimes."

"But I'm a pain that is going to marry you."

"What if I don't want to marry you now?"

"Fuck that. You already asked. I'll hunt your ass down to the ends of the earth. You're mine now."

0.0

Afterwards we're lying in bed. Oddly Greg doesn't seem tired despite the energy we just used up. Looking over at the nightstand I see the clock has just clicked over to midnight a few minutes ago.

"The week ended a few minutes ago." To think it was a whole week ago that everything happened.

"Does that mean I can be mean to Wilson again?"

I laugh. It's funny but I know that as much as he loves to torment Wilson they're the best of friends and they care about one another. Thursday's confrontation with Wilson was enough to show that. "Sure you can go back to playing with your best friend. And torturing the rest of the people at the hospital."

"Gee, thanks dear."

The patterns on the ceiling attract my attention and I start tracing them out in my mind. It's kind of nice just laying here with him with nothing to worry about except catching our flight tomorrow. I'm happy and I think he is too. When he speaks up I have to blink in order to focus on his words.

"So when do you want to do this whole wedding thing? I'm sure you've got this great big thing planned out in your head already."

Frowning I turn over so that I'm lying on his back on top of him. "I don't. I probably should but the actual wedding wasn't ever a big deal for me. It was more about being married. Knowing that someone was mine and mine alone. That we belonged to each other. Does that make sense."

"Yeah. I kind of like that."

"I guess the only thing I want is for my brother Carter to stand beside me."

"That's it?"

"I guess I'm easy that way."

"What about your parents?"

It's not something that's ever come up in conversation with him before and I don't want to bring it up now. I have no desire for my parents to come to my wedding. The last time I even talked to them was to invite them to my previous wedding. When they found out that Carter would be there they refused. I always said I could carry a grudge. As far as I'm concerned Carter's the only family I've got. "They're not invited."

There's a really long silence and I know he really wants to ask but he doesn't.

"Mine aren't either. I wouldn't mind it if my mom were there but she'd bring the Colonel with her and I would hate to go to jail on my wedding day."

Wow, it sounds like we were both winners in the parental lottery. Hopefully we won't pass on the asshole genes to any kids we have.

Kids.

I've never even dared to think about actually having kids. If we're going to do this whole married thing it's something that might come up eventually. But that's something for later.

"I'd imagine you'd want Wilson there though."

"He'd be pissed off if I didn't invite him. I've been his best man for all three of his weddings. He deserves his chance to say he told me so. So we're talking something really small?"

"I guess." I place a kiss on the spot between his shoulder blades. "We're both atheists so that rules out a church wedding. Justice of the peace I suppose."

"Yeah."

I still can't believe we're just discussing this while lying in bed. It seems so surreal. This isn't how I expected things to go at all. Then again I never expected to have Greg propose to me in Vegas.

Vegas.

That's just completely crazy.

"So the only things we really care about are Wilson and my brother being there for the wedding? I'm just confirming."

"Sounds about right."

"When do you want to do it?"

Greg must be getting a little tired because his answer sounds somewhat sleepy. "Whenever you want. Whatever you want. Just tell me when to show up and I'll be there."

"What would you say about having it in about twelve hours?"

"What?"

He's certainly wide awake now.

0.0

Some quick discussions with Greg later and I'm on the phone to Carter. I'm lucky that I'm his sister because he's pretty pissed when I wake him up right after he's fallen asleep for the first time in a couple of days. It's also lucky that he is a big shot Hollywood travel agent and can pull strings like nobody's business. He promises he'll be on a flight as soon as he gets some sleep. Since LA isn't that far away I'm not too worried. He also booked the ticket for the other person we want.

I let Greg make that phone call since he's been going through withdrawal from not pestering Wilson for the past week. I have to laugh as he wakes the poor man up and I hear the loud swearing over the receiver. He's completely shocked of course and promises to be at the airport in an hour. His current wife isn't Greg's biggest fan so I'm not surprised when she doesn't want to fly across the country for his wedding and then fly back that same night. Even if the flights are first class.

Apparently Greg's winnings from before the banquet were larger than he'd hinted at. Quite a bit larger in fact. We're talking six figure range. I didn't think that was possible and certainly not in the short period of time before he rode to the hospital in the ambulance. But it does explain how he was able to buy a beautiful platinum engagement ring for me before the banquet.

Things just work out sometimes. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't quit.

I wonder if I should invite Vogler.

0.0

End "Answers"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Not exactly my best work but I needed to move things along. This chapter was finished at 0015 on January 1st, 2013. Happy New Year. I'm just sorry that I'm unable to post it at that time. I suppose that I also forgot to mention that as of the last chapter Hell Week is officially my longest story posted on . Hu-Yah!


	20. Rush

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: I could have gone several different ways with this. But for some reason this kind of appealed to me.

0.0

"Rush"

0.0

"The world is moving so fast these days that the one who says it can't be done is generally interrupted by someone doing it." - Harry Emerson Fosdick

0.0

It's just as well that Wilson's flight is delayed an hour because after the rush of phone calls and other planning we fell asleep. Okay there might have been another round of bedroom athletics thrown in there at some point. I'm getting married today I think it's allowed.

Luckily Greg has a great new tuxedo that's going to come back nice and dry cleaned. The service at the Bellagio was good before, but now that he saved a rich patron's life and won a ridiculous amount of money it's even better. Who knew?

Technically we should have been flying out of here by noon but Carter managed to get that pushed back to eight. We're both going to be completely exhausted come Tuesday morning but I can't bring myself to care too much.

Or at all really.

A quick shower has us up and trying to figure out the logistics of everything. A phone call from Carter reveals that he's going to be here by eleven with his tux all ready to go and not to worry about picking him up at the airport. That's one thing out of the way. Calling down to the front desk reveals that we can make a day rental for a car and that they have an SUV available. That turns the new plan into House picking up Wilson from the airport in the Porsche while I use the SUV to find myself a wedding dress and take care of the "other girly things

that a woman needs to do before she gets hitched." Greg's phrasing of course.

He's quite appreciative of the chance to pick Wilson up in the Porsche and show off a bit. _Very_ appreciative. I don't tell him that the SUV would be better at holding the wedding dress and anything else I might happen to pick up. What's the point in that? Giving him one last lingering kiss I dash out the door and am soon on my way to the front desk where someone should have a rental car waiting for me.

I find at the front desk not only a rental car key but also a very fashionably dressed young woman holding it. Her name is Susan and she's apparently a hotel employee that is there to help me do anything I might need for my wedding.

"Why?"

"Mr Melrose, the man Dr House saved, is a frequent and generous guest of this hotel. He left instructions that he would be most appreciative if we at the hotel went to whatever lengths necessary to make sure your stay was as enjoyable as possible. Extending those efforts when we were told by Dr House that the two of you were getting married this afternoon was just matter of scheduling."

Well that's...unexpected. "And Mr Melrose's appreciation is..." I trail off because the answer is somewhat self evident.

"Quite substantial." Wow, she actually said it. Interesting. Who the hell is this guy when he's not having a heart attack while playing poker?

"Well Susan, who am I to turn away assistance?"

"Excellent. I've already got Thomas bringing the car around and he'll be driving us to everywhere we want to go. Also Dr House called down and informed us that we're to put your expenses against the money that he won yesterday so that's all taken care of."

Not unexpected but good to know.

"Let's get going then."

As she links her arm with mine I start to grin. This is going to be kind of fun.

0.0

The dress shopping went a lot faster than I thought it would. Susan and I were shown directly into a private room in a high end dress boutique and handed glasses of champagne while dress after dress was paraded in front of us on mannequins. She advised me to pick out at least five that I liked the look of so that I could try them on. The fourth dress I tried on stopped everything. It was perfect and I didn't even need to say anything before Susan waved everything else away. She looked at me for a few minutes in the dress and snapped a dozens of photos using a small digital camera she pulled out of her large purse. She waved over the seamstress to check the fit everywhere while she walked into the corner to look at her photos. Once she was satisfied with everything about the dress we linked arms once more and flowed out of the store.

The drive to our next destination went much like our original trip did, but this time I was slightly less dazed and actually noticed that she was subtlety grilling me about various things and texting people using her cell phone. Thinking over everything I'd told her I realized told her everything from my favorite color, flower, cake, ice cream, and foods as well as some of the same information about Greg which I hadn't even realized I knew myself. She was really good at this. There were times that I wished I could a patient history this thorough.

I wasn't at all surprised to find our next stop was a flower shop, or that they already had a few sample bouquets made up with my favorite flowers and a few made up in my favorite colors. Instead I just leaned back and let Susan fight it out with the florist using the pictures she took earlier. When they'd narrowed it down to three she waved me over to take a look. I grinned and pointed to one that was perfect. This is the only way to do a wedding.

It was almost ten and so we were off once again to a very nice spa. She handed me and her digital camera over to the attendants there with severe warnings that if I weren't ready by noon there would be hell to pay.

Women were surrounding me left and right discussing things all the while looking at the camera. One of them finally sighed in exasperation and walked off with it before coming back with four or five glossy photos.

Susan showed up precisely at noon as promised and looked me over the way I'd imagine drill sergeants would their recruits. Nodding more to herself than me she silently approved of the work they'd done on my hair and makeup. She quickly bustled me into the back of the SUV and joined me there. Thomas handed her a small warming bag that was on the passenger seat and I'm being ordered to open my mouth while she feeds me small finger foods.

I laugh once I figure out that she's checking what foods they should have at a small reception and feeding me lunch in a way not to smear my makeup.

"So we're all set at the hotel. Your dress arrived there about half an hour ago. Your brother's flight arrived on time, and we did a quick check on his tuxedo. He should be getting dressed as we speak. The groom and best man are all ready to go with the wedding rings. We've got matching shoes for the dress waiting along with the usual old, new, borrowed, blue, and penny."

"You're good."

She grins back at me. "It's what I do. You've been a piece of cake compared to most of my projects. If they weren't our special guests the stories I could tell you."

"So since we've got reception food I'm assuming there's a reception?" Which is somewhat odd since it's just me and Greg along with Wilson and Carter.

"Yes, I'm told that Dr House invited a few people from the conference you were attending. Both Dr Peters, their daughter, and her husband. Also both Dr and Mr Melrose are going to be there." I start breathing again once I hear the list. Not bad. I can handle that. I hadn't realized that Dr Peters was married to another doctor since I didn't meet her at the conference, but I liked him and Margaret. And if this wedding goes off without a hitch because of Mr Melrose being appreciative I'm not going to begrudge him an invite. It'll be nice to meet the man that gave Greg the kick in the ass he needed.

0.0

It really strikes me as I'm standing there with Carter about to walk into the room where Greg is waiting for me with the justice of the peace. After this I'll be Allison House. Well I will be outside of work. I've built up a small reputation in the medical field as Dr Allison Cameron so I'll still use that professionally instead of my married...

Wow.

I'm getting married.

I'm marrying Dr Gregory House the most exasperating, childish, sexiest, interesting man I've ever met. The man I love. The man that says he loves me.

Looking up at my little brother I smile at him and he smiles back at me. "I'm ready."

"Okay sis. Lets get you hitched."

He nods and we step through the door just as the traditional music starts. I look up and see Greg for the first time since I left the room that morning. As our eyes meet I can't stop the giant grin that spreads across my face. He returns it next thing I know I'm taking his hands without remembering the steps in between.

The rest of the wedding passes like that with the both of us just looking at each other through the exchanging of rings and the I do's.

And then I'm kissing him.

We break apart long enough to laugh at both Wilson and Carter who are whistling loudly before we go back to kissing.

I'm Allison House now.

Wow.

0.0

End "Rush"

0.0

Chapter Notes: I've been a writer and a closet hopeless romantic for a very long time. This means that I've got tons and tons of romantic scenes written out in my head. More than a few of those scenes are various weddings I've written that include horribly romantic vows. As you may have noticed I didn't use any of them. One of the scenes came really close to being written down (and would have been incredibly appropriate for various reasons) but I just couldn't do it. I don't even know why. Maybe they just didn't fit right. I still hope you, the reader, enjoyed reading this chapter.

The Hell Week officially ended on Sunday night and here it is Monday afternoon so what else could happen? If you remember way back to chapter 15 I stated that this was really a comedy. If that was strictly true I would end this story here with the wedding. Classic comedies always end with the wedding. But fair reader things are not over with this story. Who knows what evil plans the author has in store for you? Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Mongoose knows. Muuahahahahahahahaaaaa!

Oh and if anyone cares this story is around 36,000 words long if you take out all the notes and other crap. Wow. How in the hell did I pull that off? In less than a month at that?!


	21. Feelings

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Not as late as I'd thought.

0.0

"Feelings"

0.0

"As I go through all kinds of feelings and experiences in my journey through life - delight, surprise, chagrin, dismay - I hold this question as a guiding light: 'What do I really need right now to be happy?' What I come to over and over again is that only qualities as vast and deep as love, connection and kindness will really make me happy in any sort of enduring way." - Sharon Salzberg

0.0

The small reception was held at the hotel. With so few people there was plenty of food to go around. Both Thomas and Susan as well as the justice of the peace were invited to remain. The justice of the peace was a local judge and politely begged off. He apparently had an appointment at a local golf course. Susan and Thomas accepted and if I was right were also dating themselves.

I guess there's just something about being happy in a relationship that makes you want the same for other people. In that respect I don't think I could have been happier. I don't think I've ever seen Greg as happy as he appeared right this moment. It's a look that I've always thought was incredibly attractive on him. I got my first real glimpse of it while we went on that non-date to the monster truck rally. Now I'm watching him sitting at the long table next to his best friend laughing. As if he can sense I'm looking he turns and smiles at me before leaning over and giving me a kiss that I'm only too happy to return much to the amusement of the rest of the party.

From his seat next to me my brother leans over and asks me if the best man is single and gay. I laugh out loud at the thought. It's a real shame that I need to dash his hopes but I tell him that the man in question is currently married to his third wife.

"Pity. No man that attractive should be straight. Oh well, at least there's a chance for the next generation of gay men."

I refuse to tell Greg and Wilson what was so funny that I snorted my ice water.

I was completely surprised and confused when Greg pushed away from the table and held his hand out to me.

"What?"

"I think it's time for our dance."

"But your leg."

"I'm tired of letting my life be defined by what I don't think I can do. Besides what man would refuse to dance with his wife on their wedding day?"

I can practically feel the goofy grin spread across my face when he refers to me as his wife. I get the feeling he's going to win a bunch of arguments that way in the future, but I doubt I'll care too much.

"But don't get your hopes up. The song is kind of short."

Nodding I wrap my arms around his neck as everyone turns their eyes to us as the music starts. And then I laugh with my head tilted back in pure humor. The song playing is the shortest Beatles song in existence. "Her Majesty" is a song that is all of twenty three seconds long and Greg grins down at me after it's done.

"Was that long enough or do you want something else for our song?"

"It's perfect, but what else have you got?"

He gives a nod at Thomas who has a cd player hooked up to the sound system in the room. It takes me a while to recognize the song but eventually I realize that it's a Tonic song that I've heard before. As we sway with our arms wrapped around each other I realize that while he might not flat out say it often, Greg will show me in other ways the way he feels about me. In that way "The Way She Loves Me" is very appropriate.

We go through the other post wedding rituals including the cake cutting and the bouquet and garter toss, which is somewhat amusing because the only single woman in the room is Susan. The other single men bow out so that Thomas wins by default.

We still have a couple of hours to kill before we have to leave for the airport and so Greg and I slip out the back while a mildly intoxicated Wilson is trying to convince everyone to revive the Macarena. We're not seen by anyone in the room but we get more than our fair share of knowing looks as we sneak into a nearby elevator. The elderly couple already inside chuckle and the husband is kind enough to press the button for our floor while we are otherwise occupied.

It's while we are stumbling into our bedroom that we discover the downsides of formal wear. Too many fasteners. But once that technical detail is out of the way we're too busy with other things to be thinking about much of anything.

0.0

Wilson is more than slightly worse for wear when we board the plane. He's been grumbling about our public displays of affection the entire time and I'm just as glad that his seat isn't next to ours even if it's still in first class. To be fair several of those affectionate actions were taken a bit far, and others were actually started just to tweak his nose a bit and descended fast. What can I say? I'm a newlywed.

When we get settled into our seats and Greg immerses himself in his gameboy I pull out my laptop once more. I'm not a particularly great flier and like to keep myself busy if I can. There's an article that I've been writing off and on as something of a follow up to my last paper. Since I have some free time at the moment I decide to type up my mental notes from the discussions I had with the other doctors on the Immunology panel on Saturday. Several of the things that we'd talked about sparked ideas for new directions for my article.

My new draft for the article comes together much faster than my earlier version did even if I discount the spaces I'm leaving for consulting the other doctors once I get back to Princeton. I blink as I find that I'm using phrasing that I'd expect Greg to say in one of his articles. I have to make a quick check through some of his own articles to make sure that I'm not stealing from them.

Eventually I think I've gotten a decent amount typed up and much more scribbled down onto a legal pad I'd had in my carry on bag. Looking up I stretch out and blink when I find that Greg is staring at me.

"What?" I blush lightly because I sound somewhat defensive and there's no way he could avoid noticing that.

"Looks good." At my confused expression he clarifies. "The article. It looks good. You're challenging some accepted practices in the field and pointing out that some of the newer drugs are only newer and not better without stepping on too many toes by calling people stupid."

"I'd never call someone-"

"I know. It's good. Just what I'd expect from something you wrote." He grabs onto my hand and squeezes it. "Speaking of which you need to put yourself out there more. From this point on my articles go directly to you so that you can work on them. But instead of just editing them, add in your own thoughts. Make it a better article. Work on the science. Form your own opinions. And then come to me and share your ideas so that I know what you think. And we'll turn them in together." He traces his thumb over my ring. "We're a team now so people should find out just how much of the work you've been doing."

I can only nod dumbly and try to blink the tears out of my eyes. Shutting everything down I put the laptop under the seat before undoing my seatbelt and lunging for my husband. It's one thing to see hints and indications that he respects me as a doctor and another thing entirely to hear it.

After kissing him for a few minutes I steal his gameboy and start playing with it. He looks very put out for a little while before he starts looking over my shoulder and kibitzing. Not a bad way to spend some time.

0.0

It probably should have occurred to us before this but it definitely didn't occur to me until we had piled everything into Wilson's SUV.

"Where to?"

I blink at the simple question and look at Greg who is looking back at me from the front seat. He smirks slightly at having me off balance and flustered. It's like he knows that I don't want to make decisions for him that I now officially have some right to make. Damn him for being so sexily infuriating.

"Home James."

"Very good sir. And where might that be?"

"Baker Street."

I nod to myself. It makes sense. Greg's place is larger than mine even if it's not by much and most of that difference is taken up by a piano. I make some mental notes about things that have to be taken care of. I need to either do some laundry tonight or make a quick run back to my old apartment for some clothes.

My old apartment. I just now found out where we're going to be staying and I'm already thinking of the place I've lived for over a year as _my old apartment_. Wow.

I go back to planning what I'm going to wear tomorrow. The mental inventory of my luggage gets sorted through and mixed and matched until I come to the conclusion that I'll definitely be making a quick run to pick up some clothes. Once that's decided I try to figure out what else I absolutely must throw into my car for the trip back home. Because it is home. It's where my husband will be after all.

Wilson drops us off out front before driving away. We're all going to be hurting tomorrow morning but I suspect that he's going to be worst off due to both of his flights today or rather yesterday now.

Greg's almost dead on his feet as he carries his bags inside and opens the door. I'm not far behind him. After tossing my bags in the door I grab his keys so that I can drive his car over to the other apartment. He still has the cherry corvette that the Arnello brothers gave him so they'll both be able to go in to the hospital in the morning at their usual times.

The trip there and back only takes a total of thirty minutes since I'd already planned out everything I was going to grab. Unlocking the door for the first time with the keys feels pretty damned good.

But then stripping down and curling up in the bed where my husband is already asleep feels even better.

0.0

End "Feelings"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Okay people. Expect the unexpected. The deal is over and our heroes are returning to the hospital. Muuuuahahahahahahahaaa!


	22. Ambush

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Before I start this chapter I must send out some sincere apologies to my two favorite readers, ladybellatrix and phnxgrl. I'm afraid that I told them the title of this chapter and then changed it. The chapter title I told them shall actually be that for the NEXT chapter...mostly because I decided to expand the earlier part of that chapter into a wholly separate one. Don't kill me! It'll be worth it! And to whichever person left the anonymous review...Are you even reading the same story or just giving suggestions?

0.0

"Ambush"

0.0

"Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, that is not easy." - Aristotle

0.0

My alarm clock goes off at its usual time and I turn it off. I don't want to get up though. At all. I'm comfortable right where I am in my husband's arms. Just the thought makes me smile. He's still completely out of it though. Mornings and Greg don't mix. As I slip out of bed there's a vague flailing of arms in the attempt to pull me back in, but I fend them off despite how tempting the thought is.

I manage somehow to get through my shower and dressed without succumbing to the lure of our warm bed and the man inside but it's tough. Breakfast here though is totally out of the question. We apparently don't have anything I'd consider breakfast food in the refrigerator. Beer and ancient Chinese food don't count in my mind. Neither does the green furry thing that I could swear just waved at me.

Starbucks it is.

I back track into the bedroom to give Greg a kiss goodbye and leave through the front door after leaving him a note to remind him to take his corvette into work today since I'm taking his other car. I'm sure he'll be crushed.

Waiting in line at the coffee shop between the apartment and the hospital I make my plan of attack for the day. The whole getting married to Greg thing was fantastic, but I'm not so naive to think it won't have the potential to blow up in our faces. He's my boss. No one will accuse him of using his position over me to his advantage. Not if they want to keep their larynx in the appropriate location.

Cuddy will probably be a problem at some point. But since last week my views of her personal management style have taken a sharp downturn. She lost any goodwill that she might have had with me when she used me against Greg. I know that she's going to try it again but when she does it's going to backfire spectacularly. Nothing quite shows how futile your efforts to divide two people are when they've just gotten married.

I wonder if there's something else to this whole thing that I don't know about. Sure I've heard the rumors about Greg and Cuddy having some torrid love affair years ago, and while I don't doubt there's some truth to them I don't think it's to the extent that people think. If it was there's no way she would have ever given him up. The things that man can do to my body are probably illegal in some states. If I didn't love him and was just using him for sex I'd _still_ have married him.

"Mrs House." The barista's call gets my attention and I walk to the counter and pick up my coffee and carryout bag of muffins. I can't resist smiling. I know Greg and I were going to keep things subtle by my using my maiden name at the hospital, but I still shiver slightly every time someone calls me Mrs House.

Walking towards the door I pause at the odd look a woman is giving me as I pass by her. "Can I _help_ you?" She's sort of creeping me out so I'm not as polite as I might normally be.

She points at my coffee cup. "Sorry. I just knew someone by that name."

I take a sip from my coffee. "That's funny. So do I." I walk off thinking that Greg is perhaps rubbing off on me a bit more than I thought. Of course that immediately drops my mind back into the gutter it was in earlier.

Life isn't good.

It's freaking amazing.

0.0

There's a noticeable spring in my step as I walk through the doors precisely at my regular time. Linda is looking at me from her usual spot at the front desk. It looks like she might be somewhat hesitant in approaching me because of the enormous error her trainee made while I was in Vegas. I stop at the desk and open up the bag and show her a triple chocolate muffin, her one true weakness. Well chocolate muffins and Terry. The two of them make such a totally cute couple.

Her eyes follow the muffin like it's a hypnotist's watch. "Who do you want me to kill for that muffin?" I'd find this more than slightly amusing if there wasn't that tiny sliver of thought that she isn't kidding.

"Free of charge this time." I hand her the muffin. "Did you manage to place that wager on my behalf?" I lean against the counter being careful to conceal my left hand under my right.

"Of course Dr Cameron." She looks up from her muffin and scrutinizes me. "Should I anticipate collecting our profits?"

I smile at her and nod. I'm not prepared for the squeal that emerges from her throat or the arms she throws around my neck. Laughing I gently pry her arms from me and grin at her. She's so excited that it takes several shushing sounds on my part to quiet her down. I understand her point of view. Linda, Terry, Sharon from Ortho, and Beth from Oncology have drained many a beer on our girls' night outs discussing men in general and Greg in particular. Of course Linda and Terry tended to be the odd ones out in those discussions until they came out of the closet. And I do mean that quite literally. I think I'm the only person who knows about them because I actually caught them coming out of one of the storage closets late one night when I was monitoring a patient.

"Details!"

"Um let me think about that for a moment. No."

"You're no fun."

I grin and casually drum my left and on the table where the light catches my engagement ring and shines onto her face. Terry and I've often joked that Linda has shiny object syndrome and it's further proven when her hand darts out and latches onto my hand like she's a striking cobra.

She doesn't say anything. She just stares at my hand in total silence before tucking it back under my other arm. Before I know it she's looking me in the eye and I can see tears forming.

"I'm...I'm so happy for you Ally." She's flat out sobbing right now and I've no idea what to do. It's not like she needs to be consoled. I'm almost relieved when she starts hiccuping uncontrollably. That's at least something that I can deal with. I wave a girl I know is one of the secretaries from Accounting over to man the desk for a moment while I drag Linda over to the clinic.

I sit her down on the table and grab the oral spray anesthetic. One quick spritz later and a minute or two of waiting and her hiccups have stopped.

"When?"

I don't even pretend to not know what she's asking about. "He asked me Sunday night in front of the closing banquet and we got married yesterday afternoon."

"That fast?"

There's no doubt that I'm blushing right now. "I may or may not have jumped him Friday who started things there is kind of murky. But I think it's safe to say that he kissed me first." Thinking back on it I groan. "No nevermind. I kissed him first."

"You slut!"

"At least I've never had sex in the hospital!"

"Yet."

Damn her. "Yet." I will get laid on Cuddy's desk. It is _going_ to happen.

"Scale of one to ten?"

"Linda!" At her pleading expression I fold like an origami crane. "Twelve."

"Really?" I can tell she's impressed. She has cause to be. Greg is just that good.

"Not saying anything else without alcohol."

"So what is going to happen here at the hospital?"

"I don't know." I guess that's not quite true because I've got plans cooking for various things that Cuddy might try. If worse comes to worse Greg and I can start over in a new hospital wherever we want to go. I'm hoping though that some of those people we talked to at the conference will start calling the hospital to ask about us sooner rather than later.

"All the girls are behind one hundred percent. Well they will be when they find out. Which will be when?"

"I'm still working on it. It's not like we're planning on hiding things. More being subtle. You can let the gang know if you tell them to be discreet."

"We can do discreet." It's true they can. Things are looking up with the girls behind me.

We walk out of the clinic and towards the front desk where I can see Cuddy is talking to someone who's standing behind a pillar. Linda takes her spot and nods a thanks to the girl who was manning the station for her. I part with another of my muffins as an additional thank you.

I don't look her way but I strain my ears to pick up on Cuddy's conversation.

"I don't know why you came in this early. You should know that he wouldn't be in for at least an hour at the earliest."

"I knew that, but I saw his car in the parking lot and thought there might be a chance."

"That's odd." There's a brief pause before I feel a light tap on my shoulder. "Dr Cameron."

Crap. "Yes, Dr Cuddy." I turn with my arms crossed and look at the woman whose throat I've pictured ripping out several times over the weekend.

"Is Dr House in the hospital at the moment?"

Seriously? "I wouldn't imagine he would be. It's not even nine yet." What did you want me to say Cudddy? That I left him completely exhausted in our bed having fucked him into unconsciousness?

"There you have it. He's not here. If _anyone_ would know it would be Dr Cameron." Meow Dr Cuddy. Your claws are showing.

At this point I get my first clear look at the woman Cuddy was speaking to. She's older than I am with shoulder length brown hair and dressed fairly well. She's also the woman who was staring at me at the Starbucks. Fuck. She also clearly remembers me from there because the odd look has returned and is even worse.

Cuddy hasn't appeared to notice our distraction because she's kept talking. "Dr Cameron is a member of House's team."

"Dr Cameron is it? I could have sworn I heard you go by a different name earlier." I'm now extremely thankful that my left hand is tucked under my right elbow. Her tone shows that she's willing to use what she heard earlier against me in anyway she can.

"And _you_ are?" I know I'm being rude, but I don't really give a shit.

There's an almost cruel smirk to her lips as she replies.

"I'm sorry I should have introduced myself earlier. I'm Stacy Warner."

0.0

End "Ambush"

0.0

Chapter Notes: To my most loyal of readers. I hope this humble offering made up for my previous error in communication. Prepare yourselves. War is coming. -K


	23. War

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: I apologize once more for breaking ladybellatrix but come on...you didn't actually think I was done screwing with everyone yet did you?

0.0

"War"

0.0

"I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it." - Jack Handey

0.0

I know who she is. Not all the details of her time with Greg, but the broad strokes. I know they met at a paintball event of some type and that she moved in a week later. I know that they lived together for five years.

I know that she betrayed his trust and didn't follow his wishes when he was put into a medically induced coma.

Yes, I know exactly who Stacy is.

I resist my first impulse quite well. I didn't punch her smug sanctimonious face in. I instead tun to Cuddy to figure out the dynamic here. Currently it looks like whatever it is puts the two of them against me. That clarifies my course of action quite nicely. I know who my enemies are and the gloves can come off.

There are a couple of things that do surprise me though. Warner wasn't the name Greg told me before when he referred to her. At least I don't think it was. I can't really recall what name it was but there's no doubt in my mind that it wasn't Warner. The wedding ring on her left hand confirms as much. So why the hell is she here?

Cuddy also seems to be much more confident than she should be considering the last time we had words I flat out told her that I was not coming in again until today instead of asking. There was also the implication that I would be going with Greg to Vegas though I didn't actually say that. There's a few possibilities here. The first is that she thinks the whole thing blew up in my face and I'm slinking back with my tail between my legs. The second is that she thinks that Stacy's presence will throw me off balance enough to give her the upper hand. The third is that she just doesn't think I'm capable of sustaining the anger I showed before in her office.

I can actually see her thinking the first one. I am after all wearing my usual work attire and arrived at my usual time which might suggest that I'm falling back into routine to protect myself. It's wrong but I can see how she might be misled into thinking that. If I weren't currently married to Greg and knew how he felt about me I admit that the second might be accurate. If I were half asleep and hungover that is. As for the third. She's not even begun to see how far I can carry a grudge.

We're just kind of staring at each other and I can see Linda over Stacy's shoulder silently asking if I need any help. I wordlessly shake my head slightly in the negative.

Maybe they think that my head twitch was some sort of show of weakness because I can almost see them darting in for the kill. I make a slight tilt of my head to make sure my ring is still covered by my arm. Good I've not revealed that yet inadvertently.

"Dr Cameron, Stacy is an old friend of Dr House's. In fact they used to live together for...what was it? Five years?"

"About that."

So that's how it's going to be.

"Five years. Wow, that's a long time to live with someone. The two of you never thought of turning it into something more than that?" Yes, I know what you're going to say in response. Don't disappoint me in just how little you really understand Greg.

"Well, you know Greg. He's not really the something more type." I give a noncomital sound, but the smug glance between Stacy and Cuddy makes me wonder just how long Stacy's been at the hospital if they've already had a chance to discuss my infatuation with Greg. Was there another reason that Cuddy wanted Greg to go to that conference? He'd have been absolutely miserable there and then run into his ex as soon as he walked though the doors today while still pissed off and miserable. How convenient. But why? What possible reason do the two of them have for this? They want something.

It occurs to me that I noticed something earlier that I didn't focus on as much as I should have. Stacy's wearing a wedding ring which means she's married someone since she stopped seeing Greg. So why the fuck is she here and conspiring with Cuddy about something?

I seriously need more information because someone stinks about all this. Which no doubt explains the devious grin that shows up on my face when I see the next person that walks through the doors. Wilson sees me at the same time I see him and is about to give a greeting when he notices who I'm speaking to and flinches. Yeah. When he carefully makes his way to the stairwell I don't exactly blame him. It's a good thing his shock seems genuine meaning he probably didn't know about them yesterday. Because if he knew and still let Greg and I walk into this without any warning...

Well this hospital might just need a new oncologist by this time tomorrow morning.

0.0

I open the door to Wilson's office and he's not in the least bit surprised to see me. Well that shows he's not an idiot. He also just nods when I lock the door to his office behind me before going back to doing some paperwork. He actually takes his position as the head of Oncology seriously where as Greg usually shrugs that stuff off and I end up doing it.

"What the hell is that bitch doing here? And why is she being all buddy buddy with Cuddy?"

"At least I know how you really feel."

I glare at him and flop down on the couch. Hmmm, I need to remember to buy him a new candy dish to replace the one that I broke last week. "You have no clue how I really feel because I didn't rip her face off and stomp on it in the main lobby. You'd better not have known she was going to be here or so help me..." I trail off not knowing of an appropriate retaliatory act off the top of my head.

"I'm as surprised as you are. The last time I talked to her was when Julie and I had dinner with her the night House took you to the monster truck rally."

I smile at the memory of that night despite myself. "That was a good night."

"So what are you going to do about them?"

"I could kill them and have Greg send Foreman and Chase to dispose of the bodies."

I just know he's rolling his eyes without looking away from what he's doing. "Perhaps something slightly less illegal."

"Greg's right. You aren't any fun." I'm absolutely not pouting with my arms folded. I'm not.

"That's what he tells me."

I pull out my cellphone and dial the apartment. I'm not surprised when it takes a long time for him to pick up and the snarl over the phone is a barely recognizable grunt.

"We've got a major problem here."

"What the hell? No one expects me to be there for another hour at the earliest. In fact _you_ don't even have to be there for another...Jesus, Allison...another ten minutes. What could possibly be wrong?"

"Stacy and Cuddy are in her office as we speak."

There's complete silence on the phone line for almost a complete minute. "I'll be there in half an hour. How do you want to do this?"

I love this man. Once he started thinking of me as someone who could be just as devious as he was and still back him up no matter what, he's been more willing to listen to my ideas about plans of attack.

"Wear your usual clothes. Cuddy doesn't seem to know we got married yesterday." I look at Wilson and he shakes his head. "Wilson says he didn't tell her and I didn't let her see my rings."

"Sneaky. I'm not taking my ring off." He says it so firmly and matter of fact that if he were here right now I'd already be ripping his clothes off without caring that Wilson was here.

"You'd better not." Damnit, that came out much huskier than I intended it to. "Just keep your hand in your pocket or something."

"So I take it we're abandoning the subtle reveal plan?"

"After how condescending the two of them were to me earlier. Definitely. Right this moment Stacy's probably commenting how she overheard me give my name as Mrs House for my Starbucks order."

"Got it. Anything else?"

Is there anything else he should know. Damn, there is. "Yeah. Did you know Stacy got married?"

"No, no I didn't. Did Jimmy know?"

I turn to look at Wilson again. He's looking at me and rapidly shaking his head from side to side. "She didn't mention a husband at all when we had dinner. We talked about work and people we both knew. General catching up stuff but she didn't say anything about her personal life even hinting towards marriage."

"He says no."

"That's interesting."

Interesting? What does that mean? What is he thinking?

"Stop clenching." I reflexively relax when he says it and wonder how he knew. "I told you I'm not taking off this ring and I meant it."

"I love you and that's probably the best thing you could have said."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, and I'll sneak in through one of the other entrances."

I hang up and just lie back and begin to plot.

0.0

End "War"

0.0

Chapter Notes: I think after I post chapter 25 I'm going to take a few days to do some quick editing of all my other chapters for things that I can fix quickly. Looking over everything there's more than a few that just set my teeth on edge whenever I see them. This doesn't mean that it might not happen before that point, but rather that I'll definitely do it then. Just a fair warning because I have no idea how the chapter alert system on the site will react.


	24. Kallisti

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Hail Eris! Hail Discordia! This is one chapter less than twenty-five which is five times five...the law of fives is proven! Bwahahahahaa!

0.0

"Kallisti"

0.0

"Bah weep graaagnah wheep ni ni bong" - The Universal Greeting

0.0

By the time Greg sneaks into his office I've already begun the planning for my first offensive. The internet has made searching for a very specific service so much easier. When he leans over my shoulder to see what I'm working on I'm on the phone with the company talking to their receptionist.

"That's...Wow. You're totally evil. I love you." He follows up his declaration with a kiss to the back of my neck.

I shiver slightly. He doesn't say it all the time but that's part of what makes it so special to hear it. "It's not really evil. Just annoying."

He snickers and goes into the corner where his easy chair is and kicks back for a short nap. The blinds in the office are blocking the walls and he's for all intents and purposes invisible from the door. With me clearly visible at the computer no one should realize that he's even here unless someone walks all the way in.

I finish up the phone call having found exactly what I want. Sure it involves spending some money but at least this time I know that it will be going to a good cause. College kids saving for med school need money. I certainly did.

I move straight from plotting to work. Greg's e-mail has just started to fill up with the horde of greetings from other doctors that were at the conference that I expected we'd get. I call up a quick little program I paid an undergrad to write for me that writes a quick form letter for replies. There's a couple of versions of it that it chooses at random that I've written up and the only real tweak I add is to add my name to the signature section at the bottom. A quick scan through the various e-mails as the program works finds that more than a few of them are subtle sales pitches. Score!

What is surprising, thought in retrospect perhaps it shouldn't be, is that when I open my own e-mail I find that I've accumulated more than my own share of the same messages. Most of them are repeats of the messages that I just read on Greg's account but there are a few that aren't and there's even a request for me to speak at a conference in Los Angeles in several months. Nothing as prestigious as a keynote speaker but still nice to get.

My fellow ducklings are due in a few minutes and I sneak out to make the coffee. The coffee area is a slightly messy and I spend a moment tidying it up. Apparently they've been using their new mugs because I can see coffee stains in the bottom of them, though Foreman's has an "Ex" handwritten in front of the "Jailbird". Chase's is exactly the same which mildly weirds me out.

I've filled my own mug with coffee after it finishes brewing and turned back toward Greg's office when I see it. I can't help myself and just start laughing uncontrollably at the sight in front of me. The mannequin that I'd ordered dressed in bondage gear is still standing in the corner of the office though the bondage gear is gone and it's now dressed to look exactly like Greg down to the drawn on scruff and cane in its hand.

Greg rushes in through the connecting door and tries to talk to me but all I can do is point and keep laughing. He stands there staring at it for a few moments before he starts to chuckle himself. Grabbing it he drags it back into his office. I suspect we're going to find some uses for Fake House in the future. I go back to the coffee station and fill Greg's mug and take it in to him now that he's full awake and plotting.

0.0

We're sitting around the conference room table and waiting, my fellow ducklings and I. Well, to be fair, I'm waiting while the other two are working on a crossword puzzle and typing up an article. I'm of course being completely mature and idly using a paddle ball that Greg came in and placed on table ten minutes earlier. Chase just stared at me for a moment after I picked it up and started toying with it. I've actually gotten somewhat good at it and am able to play with it while reading a medical journal that arrived in the mail while we were in Vegas. I hear a slight commotion coming from the open doors to the hallway at the same time that Greg comes in from his office.

I shouldn't be surprised. I really should be surprised. I did after all have something to do with this. Okay I had everything to do with this. So why in the hell am I surprised?

It probably has something to do with the guy in the giant chicken costume that just stepped into the office.

Probably.

"Can we _help_ you?" Foreman is the first one that wakes up from his shock.

"One of you Greg House?"

"Yes." Greg responds to the question with a very put upon expression after everyone turns to look at him, including the people who are hanging out in the hallway.

"Telegram for you."

"Is it a singing telegram?"

There's a long pause while everyone turns to stare at the giant chicken once more. "It doesn't have to be." Now I feel somewhat bad. This kid is just trying to make enough money to help pay his way through medical school. I should feel pity. Okay. I'm done.

"I think it does." Greg's clearly enjoying himself with this.

The chicken sighs, pulls out a small kazoo, and blows through it. Good touch that. He's definitely getting that tip later. "To Greg. Stop. I'm hoping that this is going to be an amusing way of having revenge. Stop. Don't you agree? Stop. Send reply soon. Stop. From Dr House."

His voice isn't that bad and he actually managed to make it sound like it was meant to be sung. Somewhat. If a person were tone deaf.

For a moment Greg turns to stare at me before he realizes what he's doing and stares at both Foreman and Chase in turn as well as the chicken. The chicken shrugs and then leaves. I look up at Greg and grin when we hear the shout coming from the hallway near the stairs.

"HOUSE!"

I wonder what's gotten Cuddy so upset now?

0.0

Again I'd feel bad for the kid if I didn't know just how much he's getting paid for his troubles. He's been into the office with messages between Greg and I at least twenty times already and it's just barely noon. Each time he pops in and sings his message before leaving the hospital once again. It's got to be tough walking around in those giant orange feet. At one point I followed him and saw he's been hanging out in Pediatrics between gigs before leaving and then coming back in when he gets a phone call for the next message. He spent some of that time entertaining some of the kids in the various rooms and some of it hitting on a few of the nurses. When I told Greg and Wilson they laughed and said good for him.

I wonder if he realizes just how much letters of recommendation from some of the best doctors in their fields are worth.

The conversations themselves have been pretty run of the mill except for their method of delivery. After going through a long list of possible takeout options we finally decided to get Indian food tonight. Rogan Josh and Lamb Saag. We also game of twenty questions going which took up a good hour and probably gave our resident fowl the best work out he's had in ages.

Stacy is pretty pissed about it all actually. She obviously wants to talk to Greg about something in private and she just isn't getting the chance between his refusal to leave the conference room and my refusal to leave my desk. We've set it up several messages in advance so all I have to do is send a quick 911 page to the service and our messenger is to rush up here as fast as his drumsticks can carry him and then be as annoying as he can be. So far she's been interrupted each of the four times that she's decided to just go ahead and bring it up anyway and he actually managed to spill a soda all over her once. I think Greg almost wanted to kiss him.

Now though it's time for lunch and the rest of our plan.

0.0

Greg, Wilson, and I are sitting at a table in the middle of the cafeteria when both Cuddy and Stacy approach us thinking it's safe. I discreetly send a text using the phone I'm hiding in my left hand under the table.

"House. I'm getting sick and tired of you disrupting the workings of this hospital with these stupid singing telegrams that you keep sending to yourself." The volume that Cuddy is using is attracting much more attention than I think she realizes as it's getting much quieter at the tables around us. Perfect.

"Cuddles, I resent the accusation that I've been sending _myself_ singing telegrams. I've never sent myself a singing telegram in my life." Wilson takes that moment to cough loudly. "Okay, I have sent myself one once. But that was a singing strip'o'gram so it doesn't count."

Really? I look at him and arch an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. It was Jimmy's idea." I don't believe that for a moment until I actually look at Dr Wilson. He's blushing. Oh my god. You think you know someone.

"Greg, I've been trying to talk to you all morning." Great, I was hoping to put this off until after the next telegram but I guess the bitch just won't wait any longer. "I'm here to get your medical opinion on my husband."

Wow. I mean, I realized she was married. But this? I didn't expect this.

"You want me to treat your husband?" Apparently Greg sees the irony as well.

"Did you think I wasn't going to get married?" She has a tiny smile on her face as she says it that I have a really huge urge to slap off.

I'm talking before I realize it consciously but I think I'm kind of due. "So you're here at the hospital your ex-boyfriend works at, an ex-boyfriend that you had a fairly large hand in crippling and then you left, to ask him to treat your husband. Does that strike anyone else as particularly cold-hearted?"

"I think you'll find that this isn't any of your business Dr Cameron."

"I think you'll find that it is."

Just then the giant chicken walks into the cafeteria dancing around so as to get everyone's attention. Foreman and Chase are trailing behind him obviously curious.

Stepping up to us he pulls out his kazoo. "Ahem. To Dr Allison House. Stop. I'm thinking this is getting slightly ridiculous. Stop. Don't you think we should just tell people? Stop. I think that I proved I only have feelings for you when we got married yesterday in Vegas. Stop. Can we finally stop hiding our wedding rings? Stop. Love Dr Greg House."

There's absolute quiet in the cafeteria. The only sound I can hear is the clatter of pans back in the kitchen area itself. Cuddy and Stacy are staring at is in complete shock.

Looking at Greg I grin at him and see it returned. As one we pull our left hands out from below the table and hold them up where people can see the matching wedding bands.

This time I don't have to prompt Greg with anything because I can tell he's already chosen the perfect comeback line.

"Did you think I wasn't going to get married?"

0.0

End "Kallisti"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Not too certain if I'm happy about this chapter or not. I blame both caffeine overdose and caffeine withdrawal simultaneously. And to reassure at least one of my readers. I will not be repeating the second season sleeping with Stacy slip. Seriously. Don't know how much longer this story is going to go. Might only be one more chapter...maybe more...who knows? Remember everyone. Editing after the next one.


	25. Hell

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Enjoy

0.0

"Hell"

0.0

"I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell." - Harry S Truman

0.0

We retire to Cuddy's office to discuss things and Stacy leaves with the understanding that we'll be taking her husband's case if only to get her out of the hospital faster. I think she wanted to have some sort of home field advantage. Maybe it worked for her. Personally it only reminded me of my vow to have sex on her desk.

"You realize that the two of you being in a relationship is against hospital guidelines."

Both Greg and I roll our eyes simultaneously. It's not as if we're having an illicit affair. We got married for Pete's sake.

"This means that we're going to have to separate the two of you here at work. Dr Cameron, we'll see about transferring you to Immunology immediately."

"No."

Greg's voice cuts through whatever else Cuddy was intending to say. He's been silent so far and now everyone else in the room realizes that he was just going with the flow because it was easier. Now that he's actually speaking it's clear he's not leaving until he gets his way.

"What do you mean no?"

"I'm sorry was it too tough of a word for you? I mean you're not going to be transferring my wife to a new department. She's staying right where she is. And if you think you can manage to find cause to fire us you've got another thing coming. Who is it that you think manages the department? Who do you think assigns the consults? You don't actually think that _I_ do those things do you?"

Cuddy sputters for a few moments and I lean back in my chair. Greg has everything he needs to completely destroy her. He knows it too. I think he's finally realized that everything that I was doing over the conference in Vegas has given him the opportunity to get the things he wants here in the hospital and how to use it.

"You really shouldn't have sent me away to that conference. I found out just how many hospitals would jump at the chance to have me on staff on whatever terms I wanted. As you've reminded me time and again there was a time when you were the only person willing to hire me, but that's long since changed. Do you really think that any of them would even blink at having Allison work in a diagnostics department I set up in their hospital? Especially after watching her charm the pants off of everyone we met at that conference?"

"So what are you going to do? Leave to go to one of those other hospitals?"

"Probably not. We kind of like it here. It's fun and I've got Jimmy next door to me." At Cuddy's hopeful expression he quickly continues. "Well, not at the moment at least. At some point in the future, when the ducklings are ready to fly on their own, we might want to reorganize how the department is run, but that's still a ways away."

This comment is made with him looking at me instead of Cuddy and I think we're on the same page. He's made a few comments about my reputation and career being important to him so I'm not surprised that he's laying some groundwork here. I give a small nod and he smiles slightly.

"So you're basically going to run your department like your own little kingdom?"

"Hail to the king baby."

0.0

I've been hiding out in Greg's office for most of the day while he's been hanging out with Wilson and hiding from Cuddy who apparently feels secure enough to do the usual clinic duty chase with him. I suppose hiding isn't the right term for it because I've had a nonstop stream of people swinging by to find out if the rumors are true or not.

Amongst them was Laurie from accounting who was interested on a purely professional level. She's been the unofficial PPTH bookie for longer than I've worked here. You wouldn't know it from looking at her, but for someone's sixty-five year old grandmother she's a really cutthroat bitch. Once she was satisfied I casually wipe the sweat off my forehead. I wouldn't have been surprised at all if she'd walked around with a lead pipe in her purse to _convince_ people to pay up.

My next visitor was someone I didn't recognize at first until he dropped a sheet of paper on my desk. It was a bill from the singing telegram place. This was our mysterious singing chicken. After signing off on the receipt I ask him for a mailing address.

"Why?"

"You impressed my husband and I with how far you were willing to go for your job and I'll tell you that he's not easily impressed. At some point it might be handy to have a letter of recommendation from a world recognized department head or two."

"Why would you do that?"

"He'd do it because you were willing to spill a drink on someone because it helped you get something done. He thinks it's an important thing in a doctor."

"You don't?"

That actually made me pause in thought. At one point I might have said no, but having worked with Greg and seen some of the things his stunts have revealed about the patients has changed my mind a little bit. "Maybe a little. But you'd be getting a recommendation from me and Dr Wilson because of your trip to Pediatrics. It wasn't something you were getting paid for, and you had no way of knowing that we'd find out about it. It showed that you were willing to take extra time that you could have spent doing something else."

He blushes a little bit and I already know what he's going to say. "To be fair-"

"You were also hitting on some of the nurses there." At his shocked expression I laugh. "Did you think no one noticed? Speaking of which." I grab a small slip of paper off the desk and hand it to him.

"What's this?"

"That's the phone number of Tammy who's a nurse in Radiology. She wanted me to give that to you if I saw you."

The poor kid walks off in a daze. He'd probably be even more shocked if he knew Tammy was _the_ hot redheaded nurse that everyone in the hospital's been hitting on. Who knew that all it took was dressing up for the kids in the pediatrics department?

Makes a person wonder doesn't it?

0.0

It was a bit of a struggle to unlock the door and juggle the groceries at the same time. If I was going to make this place my home I'd be damned if I didn't at least have cereal and milk for the morning. Setting the bags on the counter and throwing the cold items into the fridge I make my way back to the car where I have some more clothes and stuff in the trunk. Greg isn't home yet but then I didn't expect him to be. He said something about hanging out with Wilson before I left. I don't blame him. I've already made a date to meet up with the girls for drinks after work on Thursday.

Putting the groceries doesn't take all that long. Mostly it's a matter of throwing out some of the...no make that pretty much everything else in the fridge. The other cabinets are fairly bare so the time there is spent putting things where I'll be able to find them when I wake up in the morning. It's important because sometimes if something were to make me unable to find coffee there would be hell to pay.

"Gotcha!"

I scream at both the loud shout from directly behind me and the hands that have grabbed onto my sides. Spinning around I start slapping Greg's chest repeatedly.

"Don't do that! You scared the crap out of me!" I hate it when people do that to me!

Greg only grins at me childishly and kisses me thoroughly in reply. I'm still really pissed off about it. Mostly. Mmmmmm. What was I thinking about? Oh yeah. I'm still angry.

Blinking I realize that I'm now in the living room and lying down on the couch. How did that happen? Wait. What is he even doing here already?

"Not that I'm complaining, but weren't you supposed to be out with Wilson?"

"I was actually sneaking off to talk to Cuddy."

"Oh?" I wonder if he realizes why that's probably not the best thing he could have said when he's hovering over me on his couch.

"Yep. I was thinking that we got married yesterday and didn't get to have a honeymoon."

Honeymoon? What the hell? How did we get from Cuddy to honeymoon?

"Hunh?"

"As it stands now, once we figure out what's wrong with Stacy's husband, the two of us have the next two weeks off for a relaxing honeymoon." At this point he starts peppering my face and neck with long kisses that make paying attention to him difficult. "Sun. Sand. Ocean. Clothing optional private beach." He pulls his head back and wiggles his eyebrows at me and I laugh.

"How are you going to pull that off?"

"We happen to be friends with a rather generous man with his own private Caribbean island and private jet."

We are? When did this happen?

Greg must see the confusion on my face because he explains. "Mr Melrose offered us the use of his private island for a honeymoon. He was really sorry we couldn't use the jet to fly back, but it was down for maintenance. So we're all good to go as soon as we solve this case. Just picture it. The two of us alone on a private island with nothing to distract us for two whole weeks. I figure if we make it without killing each other we're set for the rest of our lives."

Wow.

Greg House the closet romantic.

Who'd have guessed?

0.0

End "Hell"

0.0

Chapter Notes: So this is pretty much it. Only an epilogue remains. I'm holding off the editing until I put it out just because it's going to be the end.


	26. Heaven

Hell Week

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Rating: M (Because it makes things even funnier)

Author's Comments: Alright people. The Epilogue.

0.0

"Heaven"

0.0

"The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven." - John Milton

0.0

It was a bit of a struggle to open the door and juggle the groceries at the same time. As I manage to get the door open I can't help but think of the first time I tried to do this same thing the day after our wedding.

Five years. Has it really been that long?

It takes me a couple of trips from the garage to the kitchen to unload all the groceries. I don't even bother to roll my eyes at the dishes that Greg left in the sink instead of putting them in the dishwasher. I'm used to it and as long as he helps with the dinner clean up I'm okay with it as well.

My home office is my next stop and I sit down at my desk to go through my e-mail to check if the results I've been waiting for have arrived. It's only been an hour and a half since I left the hospital but I'd hoped that they'd be here by now. No such luck.

Leaning back in my chair I look at the painting on the wall and think back to immediately after our wedding when Greg took me to that tropical island. The painting was done by a local painter on a nearby island and always brings me back to those days.

Greg was right. We managed to survive those two weeks in paradise, though not without some small bumps along the way. It was all about learning about the parts of our partner that we'd never have thought were there. And a lot of sex of course. It was our honeymoon after all. It was also when we realized that our marriage was never going to survive if we were stuck in Greg's old apartment. Each of us needed our own space to escape to when tempers rose so that we didn't explode.

In retrospect the decision to purchase a house should have been obvious, but the arguments between us about it would have been legendary if we didn't keep them out of the hospital. After all the dust settled we bought this house. It was a lot larger than we really needed at the time but the neighborhood was good and the area was nice. We bought it outright after another short trip to Vegas won Greg even more money gambling. One of these days he's going to lose big but it hasn't happened yet.

The hospital itself hasn't changed that much in that time. Cuddy eventually discovered that she'd get more work out of Greg if she stopped giving him clinic hours he wasn't going to do anyway. He actually has the department taking multiple patients at a time now using both of our teams.

That was the major change for the two of us professionally. Three years ago Greg convinced the hospital to set up a second diagnostics team in the department and had me move up as assistant department head. The two teams often do differentials together and often switch patients when one team gets stuck. It's surprisingly effective.

Foreman and Chase have both moved on from the hospital. Eric got an offer to start a diagnostics department of his own in a Los Angeles hospital and we get together when I'm in town visiting my brother. Chase got a similar offer but decided he wasn't quite ready to do that yet and went to work with the CDC in Atlanta first. I think he's going to try to build up a reputation in the infectious disease community before he eventually does the same thing as Foreman.

Wilson's marriage to Julie wasn't any better than his previous two. Once again single he's occasionally been seen sniffing around some of the prettier nurses and doctors at the hospital. Maybe the fourth time's the charm.

I hear the door to the garage slam and call out to Greg where I'm at. My e-mail program chimes in the several minutes it takes him to get to me. I've already read the message and gotten the confirmation I'd been waiting for. It's a relief really.

"Hey you." He's not the sweetest guy I've ever dated but he makes up for it in other ways.

"Hey."

"Did you finally get the e-mail you'd been waiting for?"

I blink. "How did you...?"

He snorts derisively. "Come on Ally. We share an office. Did you think I wouldn't notice you checking your e-mail every five minutes since lunchtime?"

I guess he has a point there. He is a lot more observant than I sometimes give him credit for. "Yes I did as a matter of fact."

"A patient?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Good news?"

"Probably." I think about it. "Yes. I think so at least."

"Well that clears things up."

I can't help but laugh at this. It does indeed clear some things up for me. Greg gives me a look as if he's wondering if I should be committed. Standing up from my chair I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck. The kiss I give him starts off gentle but the heat rapidly ratchets up to scorching levels.

"Wow I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"

"We're just so happy to see you."

I kiss him again and this time his hands start to wander immediately before they come to a dead stop.

"We?"

I smile up at him and take a tiny step backwards. Reaching behind me I grab onto his right hand and bring it to my belly.

"We."

He just stares at me for several long moments before one of the largest grins I've ever seen spreads across his face.

0.0

End "Heaven"

0.0

Chapter Notes: Well folks. That's the end of Hell Week. Sure I've left plenty of room to come back to his in the future...but I probably won't. This story took a lot out of me and now my major task for the next little while is going to be editing it until it's just the way I want it to be.

I've appreciated the reviews and comments I've gotten from my readers throughout the entire process. Special thanks go out to my two most loyal readers though. ladybellatrix and phnxgrl were there practically every step of the way. I spent more than a few afternoons in a North Carolina Panera so I could upload four or five chapters and I'd often have a review or three from each of them before I left the store a couple hours later.

All this being said...don't expect to hear from me for a while.

Maybe...probably...perhaps.

-K


End file.
